


Crowd of Thousands

by SpookyEcho



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Anastasia (1997 & Broadway) Fusion, Anastasia (1997 & Broadway) References, Anastasia AU, F/M, Galra Empire, Gen, Heavily inspired by the musical, Inspired by Anastasia (1997 & Broadway), Lost Princess AU, M/M, POV Multiple, Pining Lance (Voltron), Slow Burn, less so the movie, no beta readers we typo like CHAMPS, sheith is tagged for MUCH later in the fic, the title is the song from the musical that inspired the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-01-29 22:51:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 67,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21417985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpookyEcho/pseuds/SpookyEcho
Summary: It's been years since the Galran Revolution, and years since the brutal murder of the Altean royal family and now there's a rumor in the empire that the youngest princess might still be alive, and that her remaining family in Oriande is offering a generous reward for someone who can bring the princess back to them. A hefty reward that a common street criminal like Lance McClain and his formerly royal companion, Takashi Shirogane, want. Alya is a common streetsweeper looking for a way to get to Oriande, believing the answers to who she truly is are there.Lance thinks he's found the perfect fake to replicate the young princess he met as a boy, but he's not prepared for who she really is.
Relationships: Allura & Lotor (Voltron), Allura/Lance (Voltron), Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 41
Kudos: 82





	1. Prologue

Allura tugged a bit at the collar of her gown with her free hand, huffing as she was gently tugged into the grand ballroom by her caretaker, Coran. Her eyelids stung from her tears, but she was putting on a brave face now. She was a brave girl. 

The grand ballroom was filled with warm life, glowing against every surface and sparkling off the crystal of the chandeliers above, and the glasses held by guests and at the tables below. And the music was the finest Allura had ever heard. It was a wonderful ball--and especially so for it being Allura’s first ball. Or, at least, it would have been, if it hadn’t been ruined before she’d gotten to see all this. 

Just before they were to make their royal entrance into the ball, Allura’s father had poured a drink for the whole family and announced that he’d be leaving again. Something about a diplomatic mission to another kingdom… or maybe it was to bring relief efforts to another city in their own kingdom. Allura wasn’t sure--it had been adult business, and she hadn’t understood half of it. All she understood was that since the war had begun, she’d seen less and less of her father. And she didn’t like it. 

In fact, she hated it so much that her entrance to her first ball was delayed by her crying and needing to be ushered away by her own caretaker, while the rest of her family made their entrances.

As they came upon the throne, Alfor turned to see the two, his kind eyes crinkling with a smile. As he stood, he regarding Coran with a nod. “Thank you for taking care of her,” he said quietly. With a courteous dismissal, Coran bowed to his king and the princess, before leaving the father-daughter duo be.

Alfor smiles down at his daughter, and got down on one knee before her, so they were level. “Are you feeling better?” he asked. She answered with just a shrug and a sniffle, which her father just chuckled at, gently patting at her head. “Ohh, well I am sorry.

“Now listen, my little princess,” he said softly, brushing a thumb across her cheek to wipe away the last stray tear. “I know you’re sad. I’m sad too; as is your mother, and your sisters. I don’t want to leave you. But look out there,” Allura followed to where his gloved hand was pointing at all the people dancing down below them. It was truly a magnificent sight, watching all the ballgowns swirl, the various extravagant fabrics catching the light as they did. It was enough to bring a smile to her face again; it  _ was  _ everything that she’s dreamed of. “This is your first ball, my dear. And all those people down there are here for  _ you. _ ” He turned to cast her a smile. “I want you to enjoy this night, okay?”

Allura smiled up at her father; he was always so kind, which was why she missed him so when he left. But he was right, and that was why he was king. “Okay, father,” she agreed. 

He smiled at her, his eyes crinkling again. “I have a gift for you,” he said in a hushed tone. Allura’s heart leapt, and she let out an excited gasp. One which Alfor quickly and gently shushed, with a finger pressed to his lips. “Don’t tell your sisters, okay? It’ll be our secret.” 

Once Allura agreed with a quick nod, he grinned and turned back to his throne, returning just a moment later with a small, golden paper-wrapped box in his hand. “Go ahead,” he said as she took it from him, barely able to contain her bubbling excitement. 

Alleys quickly tore through the paper, and had the box open not a moment later. Inside, was a small golden trinket box. “A music box?!” Allura asked with excitement. With a quick confirming nod from Alfor, she turned it over to look for the key to turn it. But there was none. 

“Here,” Alfor smiled, producing a thin, delicate necklace from inside the gift box. He motioned for his daughter to hand it to him, and then showed her a small slot in the filigree on it’s side where the pendant of the necklace fit perfectly. With a few twists, suddenly the music box sprang to life with gentle music. 

“It’s the lullaby you and mother sang to us!” Allura joyfully declared. It hadn’t even taken her two seconds to recognize the song. Alfor nodded and laughed as his youngest daughter bounded forward to throw her arms around him. 

“And did you see what the key is?” he asked, pulling away to show her. She gently took the necklace from him and gazed at the familiar pink flower; it was the same flowers her mother had embroidered into their clothes, and that adorned Allura’s own bed chambers. 

“It’s a Juniberry flower!” she giggled. Of course it was! It was her mother’s favorite flower; and hers too! 

“It is,” he answered proudly. “Now, I know it’s sad that I have to go on this mission. But, whenever you miss me, I want you to play this music box. And wherever I am, however far I’ve travelled… I’ll be with you.” 

Allura may have been a princess, but tonight she definitely felt like she was the luckiest princess to be alive. Her smile spread from ear to ear, and she threw her arms around her father again in a great hug. “Thank you!” she beamed, feeling how much brighter her spirits were now than they had been when she entered the grand ballroom. 

“Of course, my dear,” Alfor said softly. 

There was suddenly a loud metallic banging coming from around the other side of the throne, which made Alfor jump, springing to his feet. “I’m sorry your majesty!” came a voice before anyone could react, and the owner of the voice quickly backed away from the mess he’d made of the tray of assorted fruits and cheeses next to the throne. 

It was a small boy, probably no taller than Allura was, with a shock of messy brown hair. His clothes were oversized--clearly borrowed or loaned to him, and not nearly as fancy as what the guests wore. A servant boy here in the palace, Allura assumed. He was bowing to her and Alfor, not making eye contact with either of them. “I’m sorry, your majesty, I didn’t mean to--I was just trying to refresh your tray for you--”

Alfor held up a hand, looking around for any of the older, more seasoned servants. “Where’s your master?” he asked, his voice exasperated. Probably from being scared so, Allura assumed. Before the boy could answer, Alfor snapped his fingers for a nearby member of the royal court to come forward. “Take this boy back to the kitchens, and have one of the servants clean his mess up for me, will you please?”

Allura recognized the dark haired man her father had called forward as a young viscount. Her eldest sister was very fond of his good looks, and Allura was sure that he was one of her suitors. But Allura couldn’t remember his name… something beginning with S-H, she was sure. The boy quickly bowed his head and beckoned for the boy to follow him. As the boy was ushered away, his eyes caught Allura’s once before he quickly looked away. 

Once the viscount had safely removed the interruption, Alfor breathed a heavy sigh and lower back down to Allura. “I’m so sorry,” He quickly shook his head, trying to shake off the interruption. Allura gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile, which he returned in kind. “I want you to enjoy this night, my dear. You are Princess Allura Melenor of Altea. This is your night.” 

He gently held a hand out for the juniberry necklace, which Allura excitedly handed over to him. With both hands free now, she turned her back to him, using her hands to life her white blonde curls up off of her neck for him. Alfor reached around to bring the two ends of the necklace across her shoulder and clasp it shut. “I’ll treasure this forever, father,” Allura beamed, turning around to show off the necklace as it dangled prettily from her neck. 

Alfor chuckled, shaking his head. “Just don’t let your sisters know I gave you a present without giving them anything. That’ll be gift enough,” he answered with a smile. 

“I love you, father,” Allura smiled. 

“I love you, too, my princess,” he replied. They shared another hug before one of Allura’s sisters realized that she’d come to join the party and called for her. “Go,” Alfor beckoned with a smile. He picked up the music box again. “This’ll be here waiting for you when you get back. As will I.” 

It was the last words that Allura heard that night from her father. 


	2. Rumor

The crowd roared at the young general on the platform above them, their voices filled with jeers, and demands, and questions. It was a very passionate display out on the city square today as General Lotor tried to quell the crowd with talks of peacetime, and how the Galra Empire had decided to rename the city in a show of their ‘peace.’ It was a very angry display down below on the city square as the crowd tried to shout above him with questions about how to afford food, and what good a name will do them. Yes, it was fevered, and it was loud, and it was maybe a little bit moving, depending on your political views.

And frankly, it was all giving Lance quite the headache. “They can call the city whatever they want, but that doesn’t make it a new city,” he huffed as he pocketed the money from the man he’d just sold his newspaper to. The man guffawed in his agreement, shaking his head. 

“Hey, don’t let the soldier hear you saying that, boy,” he remarked, already halfway retreating from Lance as if he’d placed a target on the both of them. 

Lance scoffed, throwing the guy a grin. “They’d never hear anything I have to say, anyways,” he remarked. But he didn't have time to chat over it; he had people to see and places to go. So he just tipped his hat at the man. “Have a good day.” 

It didn’t take long for Lance it disappear into a back alley--a quick shortcut to his next destination--and leave the roar of the crowd behind him. He hadn’t been one for crowds of angry people in many years, if he’d ever been fond of them to begin with. As he made his way down the alleys, the dust and dirt started to give way to hanging tapestries of cloth, and small booths of people selling whatever contraband wares they had began to spring up. 

Yes, Lance knew this city like the back of his hand--he grew up on these streets. Well, except for a very short lived stint of time where he lived the servant’s quarters of the palace. But that hadn’t lasted long; the Galra Revolution had made sure of that. Now no one lived in the palace. Not unless you counted the Galra generals and officials who worked there. That's what became of the royal house--offices. Offices with amazing views of the poor lower class just outside the gates. 

“Lance!” One of the women snapped from behind one of the booths, which appeared empty save for a beaten up ledger she had in front of her. “Where’s my money?!” He tried to just walk past the blonde woman and pretend that he didn’t hear here, but she sprung up and blocked him from getting by. “Where’s my money, Lance?” Her voice had a vaguely threatened edge to it this time. 

He rolled his eyes, fishing in his pocket for the rolled up sock he’d stashed Nyma’s money in. “Can’t a guy pass through a shady alleyway in peace?” he asked as he unrolled the sock, digging around until he found several large notes of money. He handed it over to her with his most charming smile. 

“Not when you move my goods and then don’t make the cash drop,” Nyma retorted, counting the money just to be sure. 

“Oh, you mean your fake newspapers?” he grumbled, rolling his eyes. 

“They’re not fake!” Nyma snapped, making herself comfortable in her chair behind her desk again. “They contain very vital news about the absolutely real rebellion happening outside of the Galra Empire.” She paused, tucking the notes of money under her belt. “And some very fake IDs to get people across the border.” 

Lance rolled his eyes at the thin blonde woman. Nyma’s fake papers were actually quite good--Lance knew firsthand, because he had two sets in his possession for himself and his companion to get out when the time was right. “Yeah, well, if I get caught with your ‘newspapers,’ don’t think I’m not ratting you out.” 

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” she grinned at him. Before he could scoot away towards the stairs leading up to the dilapidated room that he and his friend were squatting in, Nyma jumped up again. “Wait, you did read my newspaper this morning, right?” she asked quickly. 

Lance gave her a blank stare. “No,” he said. “Why would I?” 

She snickered, pulling a copy out of the ledger she had in front of her. “Pretty juicy gossip today…” she said in a hushed voice. 

He rolled his eyes, groaning at her. Most of Nyma’s juiciest gossip involved conspiracy theories about the former royal family. “What?” he asked, knowing he was going to immediately regret it. 

She flipped the paper around to show him a printed picture of one of the princesses. “They’re saying that the remaining members of the royal family are offering a reward for the missing princess,” she grinned as if she’d just told him the most enticing news ever. 

“What?” Lance asked, his eyebrows pushing together with confusion. “That’s not possible, the princesses were all killed, along with the rest of the royal family.” 

“Apparently not all of them…” Nyma said in a singsong. 

Lance snatched the paper from her and peered at the portrait of the princess in his hands. The picture had to have been taken around the time he’d worked at the palace--she looked just the way he remembered. “Why are you telling me?” he asked, softly. Gossip about the royal family still being alive was exactly the kind of thing that could get them killed if the wrong person heard it and snitched on them. 

“There’s… a reward…” Nyma said like it was obvious. 

There  _ was  _ a reward. A reward for a missing princess Lance had once met. And Lance did have a former relation to the palace… that, coupled with his companion’s knowledge of the royals… 

Maybe Lance could actually get that reward. 

He quickly scoffed at the idea and tossed the paper back to Nyma. “Let me know if you need me to make any more deliveries for you,” he said curtly. Before she could grab him, and before he could see if she’d even bought his reaction, he started to make his way up the stairs towards his home sweet squalor. His heart was pounding at the idea of how much money he could be looking at. And it wasn’t money he wanted to share with Nyma, of all people. 

And besides the fact, he knew Nyma was looking to play the part of the fake princess, and she wasn’t nearly beautiful enough for that. She’d be a dead giveaway. 

As the stairs got thinner, he could see the door to his ramshackle little hole in the wall. “It’s me!” he hissed as he beat on the door with his fist. When no answer came, he took a deep breath to calm himself. He was all worked up from his newest scheme. After a brief pause, he knocked the coded beat on the door. 

A moment later, the door swung open and he was pulled inside by his companion. “Lance, what are you doing getting back so late?” the man hissed at him. His once-black hair was turning white towards the front, and his handsome face was red from the cold--and from the pink scar across his nose. “They’ve closed another border! We have to take those papers and get out here while we still can!  _ I  _ have to get out of the Galra Empire while we still can!” 

“Calm down, Shiro!” Lance waved him off, beaming from ear to ear. 

“I’m not gonna calm down, Lance! I was a viscount! A member of the court! If they find me, I’m--”

“Okay, first off,” Lance laughed, “Just because you call yourself a viscount, doesn’t make you one.” Takashi Shirogane may have been a participating member of the former monarchy, but there wasn’t a drop of royal blood in his body. But, apparently hanging around royalty enough could make you royalty, too. If the revolution hadn’t happened, maybe Lance could’ve been a fake-duke by now, or something!

“Lance,” Shiro said in a stern voice, shooting him a look that said that his nerves were being tested. 

“Shiro,” Lance held his arms out in a grand gesture for his friend. “You know what I’ve been giving a lot of thought to lately?” 

“Purchasing train tickets, I hope,” Shiro answered. He wasn’t in the mood to buy into his old friends’ theatrics. 

“The Princess Allura of Altea!” Lance answered, grandly. 

Shiro sat himself down on the one rickety chair that they had, groaning. “Please don’t tell me Nyma’s taken you into her conspiracies, too,” he said as he rubbed at his eyes. 

Lance quickly kneeled down in front of Shiro to grab his eyes and his focus again. He needed to make sure Shiro agreed with this plan. They already had their own visas out of the empire, he just needed one more and they could totally bring a third person with them. “I know! It’s a wild rumor going around right now! It’s this big conspiracy! A legend, even! The missing princess of Altea!” He stood up again, waving an arm as is displaying the name on an imaginary poster. “We’d be famous! Think about the headlines, Shiro! ‘Viscount Shirogane reunites missing princess with the royal Altean family!’ There’d be no  _ question  _ about it, we’d be set for  _ life. _ ”

Shiro hadn’t stopped him yet. That meant he wasn’t totally opposed to the entire scheme. “All we would need to do is find a girl who looks the part and you can teach her everything she needs to know. Family history, funny anecdotes about things they did when she was little and living in the palace, royal manners, that sort of thing! I can come up with some money to get her fancy clothes, and we take her to that old friend of yours who lives in Oriande!” Lance shot Shiro a devilish grin. “Come on, I know how much you want to see him!” 

That was enough to push Shiro out of his own reverie, considering everything that Lance was saying to him. “Okay, I get it Lance,” he retorted. There was a meaningful pause between them as Shiro considered it. 

“Imagine,” Lance breathed. “Just imagine the reward the remaining Alteans will pay. No one else but you and I could pull this off!” 

Shiro was running a thumb back and forth across his lip, deep in consideration. When did he become such a good con artist? He wasn’t sure if it was when he managed to shmooze his way into royalty, or afterwards, when he and Lance had hid together during the revolution. But the idea was enticing. And it was probably the only way he’d get Lance to make any haste about getting them out of the Galra Empire and to Oriande. “Fine!” he finally agreed. “But we’re choosing the girl for the part together! If we’re going to pull this off, it’s not just about her looks.” 

Lance couldn’t even find a spare moment to feign offense at Shiro’s quip about his priorities, because he was too busy pumping his fists. Then, a thought occurred to him very suddenly and he grabbed his coat again. “Come on, we need to go back down to the alleyway!” 

“What?” Shiro jumped up, confused and more than a little anxious. The idea of going out and about always made Shiro a little nervous. It was only a matter of time before he ran into a Galran who recognized him and then his years of hiding out were wasted. 

“We’re going to look at all the stuff people are selling!” Lance replied, already tossing Shiro’s coat at him. “We’re going to need something of hers, or at least something Altean, to show to people to prove it’s her!” He was out the door before Shiro had even gotten both of his arms in the sleeves. 

It didn’t take very long for them to wander down the back alleys and find some people set up selling all sorts of “Altean” goods. And Lance just seemed to know every urchin by name. It was rather impressive to Shiro, really. But then again, Shiro had made it his business to know every royal by name, so he couldn’t judge. It was the same concept, just different class circles. 

The man Lance was currently speaking to had an entire row of items laid out in offering. Each one had a wilder and more unlikely story of previous royal owners than the last. And each one Lance had been more than willing to buy, but was swiftly rejected by Shiro for some lack of authenticity. “Come on, man, I see the other items you have behind you,” Lance sighed after having argued with his ‘friend’ for several minutes trying to get him to show the other, more valuable items. He pointed at a golden item on the small cart behind him. “Like that music box!” 

Shiro glanced at where Lance was pointing and straightened up. Oh. That actually looked like the real deal. “Ohhh, no…” Lance’s friend shook his head. “No, that piece is  _ genuine  _ from the Altean Royal family. We’re talking princesses or duchesses at _ least,  _ here. I couldn’t part with that item.” 

Lance looked about ready to give up when Shiro hopped in, pulling what he had out of his pockets. “I’ve got two cans of beans and an Altean pocket-watch,” he offered. That piece was real. He could tell. 

The man didn’t hesitate to accept. “Done!” he agreed, quickly handing over the music box and setting it down in front of Lance. Which honestly made Lance question the validity of the item, but he hadn’t seen Shiro get that excited about one piece they’d seen yet. And Shiro’s word meant a lot to Lance. So he quickly grinned and shook hands with the man, and picked up their prize. 

He smiled down at the golden box as he and Shiro quickly scooted away to somewhere a bit more private. It really was a gorgeous little thing--all engraved his flowers and fancy designs. It definitely looked like the ornate palace stuff from Lance’s childhood memory. As accurate as he could even believe that was. He flipped it over in his hands to try and find the little knob to turn, but there wasn’t anything. 

Oh well. He’d figured out how to make the darn thing work later. “Do you believe in fairytales, Shiro?” Lance asked, pocketing the music box. “Because we’re about to make a  _ real life  _ one the whole world is gonna buy!” 

“You’re very confident in this plan,” Shiro remarked, noting his friend’s excitement. He hardly ever saw Lance like this anymore. “This is  _ super  _ risky. Like. More risky than any of your normal cons.” 

“We’ve already got papers for me and you, now we just need a third set for the girl. I can sell some of our stuff and sell papers for Nyma to get the money for train tickets. All that we need after that is the girl and our own nerves!” He wasn’t even listening to Shiro. His head was full of plans and daydreams about this perfect plan. “With any luck, everything goes smoothly!” 

“Yeah, and with any luck, we won’t be  _ shot _ !” Shiro retorted. He was getting nervous again. But if it got Lance to leave the empire, then he was willing to play along. For now. It couldn’t hurt to see what kind of girls Lance found for the role. 

“Shiro,” Lance grabbed the man by his shoulders. “Who else could pull it off but us?” He flashed a smile at Shiro that  _ almost  _ made him believe Lance. Because Lance was right about one thing, the two of them were both good at conning people. Shiro made a whole life of it at the palace! Technically he’d only have to trick royalty  _ one  _ more time. “We’ll be rich…” Lance said in a soft, tempting voice. “We’ll be out of the empire…” 

Shiro laughed. Maybe he was starting to buy into Lance’s ploy a little bit. It did  _ sound  _ nice. “We’ll really give Nyma something to write in those papers of hers, huh?” 

“That’s the spirit!” Lance whooped, punching Shiro in the shoulder. “The biggest con in the history of both the Altean Monarchy  _ and  _ the Galra Empire!” He held a hand out for Shiro. “Are you with me?” 

Shiro looked at the hand, feeling a little sick to his stomach. But it would get him out of the empire… and if it worked, it would make him rich. “The Princess Allura,” he said as he grabbed Lance’s hand to shake it. He only felt a  _ little  _ bit like he’d just handshook his life away.

“The Princess Allura,” Lance agreed with a cheshire grin.

* * *

BANG!

The loud noise suddenly punctuated the town square and sent townspeople scattering everywhere. And one young streetsweeper, Alya, suddenly gasped and hit the ground, throwing her broom aside. She turned her face inward to the dirt, not wanted to look at the source of the sound. Surely someone had just crossed a soldier and been killed. She shouldn’t make a sound. Had she screamed? Crap, she was certain she’d heard herself scream…

Her heart thudded in her chest as she pressed her hands into the cobblestones beneath her. “Hey…” a low, smooth voice said as it gently held her arm to help guide her up again. “It was just a truck backfiring, that’s all…” She hesitated a small peak up and the tall, handsome man who stood above her. She knew that face; he’d been talking in the town square every morning this week. 

Alya looked around. No one appeared to be injured anywhere. And there was a truck nearby… “You don’t have to worry, the days of the revolution are long behind us,” the man smiled at her. He rose and gently helped her to stand, as well. The girl wasn’t making eye contact with him, but she was quite lovely, if not frightened. “You’re shaking. There’s a small tea shop just around the corner, if you’d like--”

“No thank you!” Alya pulled away from him, still without eye contact. Without another word, she quickly picked up her broomstick and tried to go around him. 

“What’s your hurry?” he asked before she could run off. 

The girl finally looked up at him with bright, blue eyes. She was being rude… He had come over and helped her up, and even offered to buy her something to warm up with. Plus, she didn’t want to outright refuse a Galran general. “I’m sorry. I can’t lose this job,” she explained. “Who knows when the next will come?” She hesitated for a moment before holding out a hand. “I’m Alya. Thank you for the offer.” 

The man smiled at her, taking her hand and shaking it. “Lotor,” he replied. “If you need anything, I’m here… everyday…” He chuckled and motioned at the entirety of the town square. 

Alya chuckled. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.” She gripped her broom and gave him a small wave before she turned and headed further down the road. Maybe she’d just find a bit of street to sweep a bit further away from the center of town. 

Surely she'd find somewhere that felt safer than here. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO EXCITED that I finally got this fic started! Hopefully I'll be able to keep it up and get the whole thing written without too much trouble, like some *other* fics I have... >.> If it takes me a while to update, I apologize in advance! <3
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the beginning of this fic!


	3. Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alya tries to buy herself a ticket out of the Galra Empire, but is turned away at the ticketing window. When a stranger offers her a way to get what she needs to leave the empire, she follows the lead...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I'm really so excited that people are not only reading this fic, but enjoying it! Thank you so much for the support!

Alya could hear the whistle of a train from where she stood in line at the ticketing window, and it made her heart jump with excitement. Maybe she should double check while she waited in this line. Just to make sure she had enough money, in case she had counted wrong or something. She held the notes of currency close to her chest as she redid the math. Nope, she was set--enough money for a one way ticket to Oriande. 

She’d worked for a few years now, doing whatever odd jobs she could get and saving everything that she had. And now it was finally happening! She was going to get out of the Galra Empire and on her way to Oriande. At least there, she’d have freedom… And she was certain that she’d find more answers about her life once she was there.

The train station was busy. People were bustling everywhere, quickly trying to board their trains. As if getting on the trains faster meant they’d be leaving sooner. And the lines were long! Alya had heard one man mentioning to someone that people had begun lining up before the ticketing windows had even opened. She, herself, must have been in line for at least forty minutes now. Everyone who wanted to go was leaving all at once, it seemed. 

“Next!” the man at the window called. It was her turn! 

“Oh!” she beamed and moved forward at his beckon. She didn’t have any baggage. Just the clothes she was wearing, bundled up to protect her from the cold. “Yes! I’m looking for the next available one way ticket to Oriande, please.” 

The man nodded, and opened his ledger, flipping through to find a train with availability for her. “One ticket to Oriande,” he repeated, reaching up with thin fingers to fiddle at his own mustache. “I have room on a morning train in two days, how’s that sound?” 

“Wonderful!” Alya agreed, clasping her hands together. That was sooner than she’d expected. She’d be to Oriande in no time! 

“I’ll need to see your visa,” the man nodded, holding the fiddling hand out in expectation. 

Visa? Alya didn’t even have any paperwork; she hardly had an identity! How was she expected to get a visa? The man she’d spoken to before hadn’t said anything about needing a visa to  _ leave  _ the empire. Then again, that was at least two years ago now that she’d spoken to him. “I… I don’t have one…” she said softly, trying not to let her disappointment show through too much in her voice. 

The mustached man behind the window looked annoyed, to say the least. “No visa, no ticket,” he replied curtly. “If you want to leave the Galra Empire, you need the proper paperwork. Come back when you have that, and then we’ll talk. Next!” And just like that, he was giving her a dismissing wave, and the woman who’d been standing in line behind Alya was pushing her way up to the window. 

Alya’s shoulders slumped as she backed away, feeling more defeated than ever. She barely even had a name; and nothing on paper to even prove that she existed. Where was she going to get a visa? She turned to head back out the way she’d came into the train station, her hand shoved protectively into the pocket she’d had her money stashing away in. 

Perhaps that general who had helped her before would have some advice for her, she thought. It was an idea. However, the notion of going to any Galra general and explaining to him that she was a person without an identity put a pit in her stomach. Most Galra would instantly find that suspicious. It was a sure way to get herself interrogated. Or worse. 

But Lotor had seemed different…

“You looking for a visa?” a low voice said to her as she passed. It stopped her cold in her tracks. 

She turned to view the source of the voice. It was a blonde man, shorter than she was, with a hat on and collar up to either conceal his face or to block the wind from his face, depending on who was asking. “What?” 

“I know how you can get a visa,” he repeated again, in a hushed tone. He held a hand out for her, to shake hers. One which she took, trying to hide her suspicion as she did so. “I’m Rolo.” 

“Alya,” she introduced. “And how? I don’t have any ID.” 

“Don’t need any with my sister,” he answered plainly. “But it’ll cost ya.” He cast a pointed look down at the hand she had tucked away in her pocket. 

Alya shifted, definitely feeling more than uncomfortable now. This man was talking about forged papers, which made her nervous. But it might be her only option. “How much?” she asked, knowing she was probably going to regret it. She only had enough money for a train ticket, not nearly enough for any additional costs for some fake papers. Surely it wasn’t going to be cheap. 

“Two hundred notes,” Rolo stated, flatly. 

Alya scoffed and shook her head. “No way,” she replied quickly. “I don’t have that. I’ve only got enough money for a train ticket.” She turned to try and hurry away from him. Away from this damn train station, before she lost it. 

“Wait!” Rolo called, following after her. “Wait, what good’s a ticket going to do you without any papers!” 

“I’ll figure it out!” she huffed. 

“Okay, fine! But there might be another way!” 

Alya stopped again, grimacing. She really shouldn’t be giving this guy another chance, but what choice did she have? “What?” she asked, turning back to him. 

“You’re about the right height… blonde…” he said, sizing her up. Alya quickly pulled her coat closed tighter around her, not particularly liking the feeling of this man's eyes all over her. “Sorry…” He gave a soft laugh, shaking his head. It was like he was still trying to decide whether or not to give her whatever information he might have. But after a moment, he just nodded. “There’s a man named Lance. He can get you the visa, probably at no cost to you--”

Alya’s heart leapt into her throat again, and she found herself cutting Rolo off. “Where can I find this Lance?” she asked, quickly. She hadn't even noticed she'd interrupted him and stopped him from giving her all of the information.

“The old royal theatre,” Rolo replied. “It’s near the palace--no one’s been there for quite some time, though, so don’t let any of the soldiers catch you poking around there. Tell Lance that Rolo sent you.” 

She nodded, grabbing the strange man’s hand and giving it a squeeze. He hadn’t needed to even give her this information; clearly this fake papers scheme was how he and his sister made their money. Telling her about Lance clearly was only taking away from his own profits, but he did it anyways. “Thank you!” she said, urgently. “Thank you so much.” 

“Just don’t get caught,” Rolo said again, nodding. “And make sure you go there  _ today.  _ Before sundown. Today’s the last day Lance will be there.” 

Alya nodded again. “I will. Thank you.” She quickly turned from him to head off in that direction. When she spared a moment to glance back over her shoulder at Rolo, he was already lost in the crowd again. Probably trying to find another unsuspecting customer, since he’d just turned this one away. Alya smiled and let her feet lead the way back towards the city square. The palace, and the theatre, weren’t far from there. 

* * *

“I aaam the Princess Allura of Alteaaa!” Nyma recited dramatically, before pulling out an over-the-top curtsy like Lance had never seen. In the dusty old seat beside him, he could hear Shiro trying and failing to hold back his snickering. 

“Okay, okay,” Lance sighed, rubbing at his temple and pretending to write something down on his notepad, which really was just him scribbling more on what he’d dubbed the ‘frustration squiggle.’ Why had Nyma even come to auditions? He’d already told her that she wasn’t going to play the part. She didn't even look like Princess Allura! 

And god knew Lance didn’t want to spend an entire train ride to Oriande with her. “Why don’t we maybe… try something different?” he breathed, giving her a forced smile. “Like… maybe try taking the gum out of your mouth for starts?” 

Nyma rolled her eyes at Lance, but obliged about the gum part. “Sweetie, why are you even making me go through this audition, we both already know it’s going to be me playing the part,” she said, coyly. 

“Everyone needs to audition…” Lance said in a little bit of a singsong, trying to keep calm with her. Nyma rolled her eyes, sticking the chewed up gum behind her ear, but turning to reset and do the lines over again. 

Shiro was leaning over in his chair to Lance, his voice a quiet whisper. “Lance, just get her out of here,” he instructed, holding his own notepad up to cover his mouth and hide what he was saying. 

“I can’t,” Lance whispered back. “If I kick her out, she’ll just go rat us out to the nearest Galran soldier. We’re not even supposed to be in here!” Shiro shook his head and sighed, straightening back up in his seat. This was all quite ridiculous, but Lance insisted on making a spectacle of these ‘auditions.’ He was nothing if not a showman.

Nyma took a deep breath, as if getting into character again. “It’s ME!” she burst, even more dramatic than the first time. “Princess Allura of ALTEAAA! They shot me, but I liiiived! And I came all this way just to find you, my familyyy!” 

Lance just stared at her, frozen to the spot. He was pretty sure that he felt his pencil fall from his fingertips to the table, but he couldn’t be bothered to really pick it up. 

“What?” Nyma huffed, the dramatics instantly dropped. “I know I’m not the  _ greatest  _ actress ever, but come on!” 

“You don’t say?” Shiro snorted, shaking his head. 

Nyma’s face turned red with anger and her jaw dropped. But before she could retort, Lance snapped out of it and jumped in. “Listen! I’ll come find you if you got the part!” he said, quickly. It wasn’t like he wouldn’t see Nyma in the alleyway outside his and Shiro’s place. 

“You know, Lance,” she huffed, going to pick up her coat from the chair set off to the side of the stage, “If you weren’t so handsome, I’d turn the  _ both _ of you in!” She turned and stomped her way offstage, making sure to let her anger with him be known. 

“Yeeeah, I’ll see you to pick up the papers tomorrow, Nyma,” Lance called after her, plastering on as pleasant a smile as he could. She never stayed mad at him for too long. And she threatened to turn him in at least once a week. Just whenever he was particularly grating on her nerves. It was the most warm and fuzzy the two of them ever got. 

Once she was gone, no other girls came in. They hadn’t seen many; there were very few girls in the city willing to play a rumored-to-be-alive princess that would get them killed. Even if it meant getting them a ticket out of the empire. “Oh well,” Shiro sighed, stretching his arms over his head and relaxing back in his chair. “You tried. Guess we’ll just have to call it quits and head to Oriande, just the two of us!” 

Lance rolled his eyes, picking up the glass of water he had in front of himself and taking a sip. “Nah, I’m not giving up that easily. I’ll find a Princess Allura, even if I have to hold auditions in Arus, or Balmera City.” 

“Have you ever even been to Arus?” Shiro laughed, shaking his head. When Lance just cast him an unamused look as his response, he sighed and sat up again to look his friend in the eyes. “Princess Alluras don’t grow on trees, you know. You’re not gonna find the perfect girl to play this part.” 

Lance sighed and shook his head. Maybe this whole plan was kind of silly. They were talking about convincing actual royals that some random person they found off the street was their beloved missing princess. “Yeah,” he sighed again. “Guess I’m stuck with just  _ you,  _ then.”

Shiro chuckled, patting Lance on the shoulder. Lance had grown so quickly the years after the revolution. He could still remember the small kitchen boy who led him out of the palace when the Galran soldiers attacked. And then what was more, Lance still let Shiro stay with him. “Yeah, well. You saved my life. I owe you everything.” 

“And what a mistake that was,” Lance laughed, reaching into the pocket of his coat draped over the back of his chair. He pulled the gold and pink box out and started to examine it. If they didn’t find a girl, then they would have bought this old thing for nothing. What even was it? He’d assumed it was a music box, but there was no key to crank it on. He poked a bit at the sides, trying to see it maybe there was a button that might open it. 

“Stop poking at that thing, you’re gonna break it,” Shiro instructed him. 

“I can’t get it open,” Lance groused. 

Shiro opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say a word, there was a small cough from the stage. The two jumped and looked up at the woman standing up there, and Lance quickly set down the box. “I’m so sorry,” the woman said, holding her hands up. “I’m looking for a Lance.” 

Lance blinked, looking the woman up and down. She was gorgeous; her blond curls pulled up in a half ponytail, and dark, flawless skin. “Uh, hi… yeah… you found him?” he said, quickly picking up his pencil again. “Are you here for the auditions?”

“Um, Rolo sent me,” she said, sounding a little uncertain. “I need a visa, and he said you would be able to help me get one... at no cost.” 

No cost? That didn’t make any sense. Lance’s only means of getting papers was through Nyma, and Rolo would have just sent this woman directly to her if she could afford Nyma. “Those kinds of papers are expensive,” he said. “We’re having  _ auditions  _ here. Did he send you for that?” 

The woman shook her head ‘no.’ “I’m sorry, he just said you were the only one who could help me.” She shook her head, huffing out a breath. “Well, how much are  _ your _ papers? If I can afford them, I promise you’ll get your money!” 

Lance just laughed, shaking his head. His papers were Nyma’s papers. He was just the delivery boy. It would be no less expensive, so if she couldn’t afford Rolo… “What do you even do for money?” he asked. 

“I sweep streets right now,” she shrugged. When he laughed again, her face changed. Her lips pressed together and her cheeks puffed up in her anger. “Well, before that I worked in a hospital in Balmera City! And before that, I danced! I can do any job anyone needs, you’ll get your money!” 

“Balmera City?” Lance asked. He was rather impressed if this woman was from there. Why on earth would she come here from Balmera City? “That’s a long way from here.” 

“Yes, I know it's far from here! I walked it!” the woman huffed, stamping a foot. 

A stunned hush fell between the two of them. Stunned, not because she’d snapped at him, but because of what she’d said. “You walked  _ here _ ?” Shiro asked. “From Balmera City?” 

The woman looked uncertain, like she’d said too much about herself. She started picking at her fingers with one hand, shrugging her shoulders a bit. “Yes.” she replied. “I mean, it was several years ago, but…” 

“Who are you?” Lance asked, still feeling amazed. There were very few reasons why a person would walk halfway across the empire. “Are you running from someone?” 

She locked eyes with him, still wary. “Running…” she said softly. “Running  _ to  _ someone is more like… My name’s…” The woman looked around at her surroundings for the first time. Her voice trailed off as she took in the theatre’s former opulence. “Wait, I know this place…” she murmured. 

“This was Queen Melenor’s private theater,” Shiro answered with a fond smile on his face. His eyes turned upwards to look it at the dusty chandeliers above them, and then over to the paintings on the wall. “Only those of the highest class ever stepped foot in here, when it was at it’s full glory.” 

The girl nodded, following his eyes over to the paintings. “My father took me to a ballet here, once…” she said, her voice sounding quiet. Like she was far away. “The people around us were so polite… They kept asking me and my sisters to dance afterward…” Her face suddenly turned a shade paler, and she had a far away look in her eyes to match her voice. 

Shiro stood, reacting quickly and darting over to the stairs leading up to the stage. She looked like she was going to faint! He grabbed the chair, and brought it over for her to sit down. “When’s the last time you ate?” he asked her, worriedly. She looked like she was about to pass out. Lance stood and followed his companion up onto stage. 

“My mother had a glass of nunvil and I stole a sip,” she laughed, as Shiro helped her down onto the chair. Lance had a distinct feeling she didn't mean that as an answer to Shiro's question.

“Go get my coat, I have a ration of bread in the pocket,” Shiro commanded Lance.

“She’s crazy!” he hissed back, shaking his head. He wasn’t about to be responsible for some mad woman that they didn’t know. And from the sounds of it to him, she was already running from someone. 

Shiro cast Lance a serious look and pointed him to his coat again. He clamped his jaw shut at the look in Shiro’s eyes and turned to head offstage to the rack where Shiro had left the thing. Once Lance was gone, she reached up to gently pat Shiro’s arm. “You seem to be a gentleman… unlike your friend,” she remarked. 

Shiro smiled at her and crouched down so he was closer to her level. She certainly looked like the queen, if his memory of what the queen looked like was to be trusted. And all that talk about a party in this theatre… Her color looked to be coming back now that she was sitting down. “I’m not that much of a gentleman,” he gave her a reassuring chuckle. “And you’ll have to forgive Lance. Life hasn’t exactly been too kind to him.” 

“Hasn’t been kind to anyone,” she retorted. Lance was returning with the small bit of bread, wrapped in a handkerchief. He held it out for her, and she quickly took it, nodding her head at him. “Thank you.” 

He grumbled out a response as Shiro stood up and gave his arm a gentle tug. He turned to look at his friend, following him a few steps away. “Don’t be so quick to write this one off,” he advised in a soft, low voice. He pointed somewhere over Lance’s shoulder.

“Her?” Lance asked, doubtfully. As he turned back to look at the young woman, he followed with his eyes to where Shiro was pointing.

There were few places left that the Galra hadn’t raided and wiped clean of any remnants of the Altean monarchy. This was one of them, and you could tell from the paintings that adorned the walls. They were all grand, ornate portraits of important people in the royal family. And the one he was looking at now was of the queen and her daughters. All of them with long blonde curls cascading perfectly down their shoulders. The youngest one, with bright blue eyes… Very similar to the same bright blue eyes that were watching him now. 

He blinked, shaking his head a little bit. The resemblance  _ was _ striking. “What’s your name?” he asked again. 

The woman wiped a crumb of bread from her face, shaking her head. “I don’t have one…” she said softly. “The nurse at the hospital called my Alya. There were A’s embroidered into my clothes, so she just… chose a name she thought was pretty, I guess. She told me I have amnesia.” 

Amnesia? Lance cast Shiro a glance. That would be a convenient thread to weave into their story for the royal family. “What do you remember?” Shiro asked, cautiously. She seemed to like him better than Lance. 

Alya scoffed, looking down at the bread in her hands and shrugging. “Not much… they said that they found me on the side of a road on a really snowy night. I had no memories, and no name, or anything to identify me.” She took a shaky breath. “They gave me clothes and shelter. They took care of me, but… they said there was nothing they could do about the amnesia.

“But I couldn’t stay at the hospital. I lived in an orphanage for some time, but when I turned sixteen they said I had to leave to go find work. I was an adult, to them. And there were just so many other orphans they had to worry about. So I walked to the nearest city and took whatever jobs I could find. And when the work ran dry, I walked to the next city. I only stole when I had to…” 

“We’ve all stolen before here, there’s no need to worry about that sort of thing with us,” Lance replied. His whole childhood was stealing, and Shiro stole an entire title in the ruling class for himself. Alya looked up at him and gave him a soft smile, which he returned. “You said… you were running to something?” 

“Someone,” Alya nodded. “I just… I have these recurring dreams. Visions, more like! Though…” she sighed as her face fell. “People say I’m crazy, that they’re just dreams.” 

“What happens in these dreams?” Shiro asked. 

“Sometimes not much at all,” she answered. “Just people talking to me… calling me. Like they’re waiting for me somewhere that I can’t reach. And then sometimes I hear thunder and this sound like, um… like glass breaking. And gunfire…” She was shaking as she spoke, and Shiro reached forward to put a supportive hand on her shoulder. She reached a hand up to hold his, chewing on her lower lip. “Sometimes I dream about a magnificent city with colored lights. The buildings are so beautiful, all white marble and gold… I see a statue of a lion.” She smiled at the particular memory. Well. Dream. “And I know it’s Oriande, I just know it. I don’t know  _ how  _ I know it, but I do.

“So, you see, that’s why I need to leave the Empire… I need to get to Oriande,” she looked over at Lance, almost begging him to help. “I know that the answers I’m looking for are there. Maybe there’s someone there who’ll know who I am! And maybe they can help me get my memories back!” 

Lance stared at her for a moment or two, glancing up at the portrait. She did  _ look  _ like the Princess Allura. “Maybe…” he breathed. “Maybe we can help you after all, Alya.” 

She jumped up from the chair in her excitement, a smile spread from ear to ear. “You can?” she asked, bouncing a bit on her toes. From his peripheral vision, Lance good see Shiro smiling as well beside him. 

“It just so happens…” Lance said, grinning at her. It was time to turn on the charm. “That we’re going to Oriande, too! And, it just so happens that we have  _ three _ tickets! Unfortunately…” he waved a hand up towards the painting Shiro had pointed out to him earlier on. “The third ticket is for  _ her.  _ The missing princess, Allura.” 

Alya looked up at the painting of the young girl that Lance was pointing at. “Oh,” she said, her face falling. Why would Rolo send  _ her _ here then? 

Before she had any time to ponder that, Lance was already talking about. “But you know, it’s the  _ funniest  _ thing... You  _ do  _ look just like her, though! Wouldn’t you say, Shiro?” 

Shiro normally wasn’t one for Lance’s dramatics. But they needed her to agree to this trip. She had to believe she could be the princess--and as far as Shiro was concerned, she was definitely  _ someone  _ from the higher class. That’s the only way she would have ever been in this theatre when she was young. “Oh, yes!” he agreed, swooping in next to Lance. “That blonde hair!” 

“Yes,” Lance’s eyes lit up. “And those eyes!” 

“The Altean eyes! And wait…” Shiro leaned in to examine Alya’s face. “Is that King Alfor’s nose, Lance?” 

“I think so!” 

“Wait, wait, stop!” Alya pulled away from the two, throwing her hands up and laughing. “You can’t possibly believe that I’m actually royalty!” 

Lance grinned at her, draping an arm around her shoulder. “All I’m saying, princess, is that I’ve seen thousands of girls in the Galran empire,” Shiro rolled his eyes pointedly at his humble bragging, “and not  _ one  _ of them looks as much like the lost princess as you do! Look at the portrait!” 

Alya pulled away from Lance again, shaking her head. “No, no, no! I knew I shouldn’t have listened to that con man in the train station!” she huffed, seeming to get mad at the two of them now. She turned to head off of the stage. She’d just have to find some other way to get the papers she needed for her ticket. She had other ways of getting the money, even if they were a bit more dangerous. 

“Why?” Lance followed after her. “You don’t know what happened to you, and  _ no one  _ knows what happened to the princess!” He jumped in front of her before she could reach the door. “You’re looking for answers in Oriande, and that just so  _ happens _ to be where her only remaining family is?”

“Have you never once considered the possibility?” Shiro asked.

Alya studied him, carefully, as if considering his words. “I don’t know,” she finally sighed. She looked to Shiro for reassurance, but he just cast her a smile, and pointed to Lance. “It’s hard to think of yourself as royalty when you’ve spent the last three years living without a bed!” Lance gave her another one of those stupid grins, like he knew so much that she didn’t. It annoyed her. But she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t wondered…

“Yes, I suppose every girl at  _ some  _ point in her life wishes she were a princess,” Alya finally sighed. She turned and looked back up at the painting, considering her options and the possibility. 

“Like I said,” Lance sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets and shrugging. “We’d love to help but the third ticket is, sadly, for the missing princess of Altea, so if you’re not her, then I guess we’ll just have to be on our way…” He tapped Shiro on the arm and made a motion with his head for him to follow, which he obliged, leaving Alya standing there alone. 

Lance lead Shiro down the stairs and over to the desk where his coat and the golden box still was, and he began to gather his things. “What are you doing?” Shiro whispered to him. “That’s the girl!” 

“Let her sit with it,” Lance replied, keeping his voice low. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it all planned out. Just follow me like we’re leaving.” 

As they slowly began making their way up the aisle towards the back of the theatre, Alya felt a lump form in her throat. Wait, no. They couldn’t leave! She had to make a decision, and quick. “Lance, wait!” she called when they were almost to the door. 

He stopped, shaking his head a bit as he turned back to her. “Sorry, did you call me, princess?” he asked. 

She traced her steps back over to the edge of the stage. “If I can’t remember who I am, then who  _ isn’t  _ to say that I’m not some lost princess? Certainly not me! So… if I’m  _ not _ Allura, then surely the Altean family will know right away and it’ll all just be one big misunderstanding, right?” 

Lance shrugged his shoulders, nodding. “Yeah, that sounds about right,” he lied. 

“And if I am Allura, then I’ll have all the answers I’m looking for, and I’ll have… I’d have a family.” 

“Either way, it gets you to Oriande,” Shiro offered with a smile. "Even if they say no, at least you'll know more than you do now. And you'll be closer to the truth."

“Yes!” Alya beamed, tapping her fingers on her chin with nervous energy. 

"So it sounds like you've made a decision, then, right princess?" Lance asked, smiling up at her.

She looked up at him again, a soft smile on her face. With a determined nod, she turned towards the stairs and made her way down them, towards Lance and Shiro. She held her hand out to them to shake on it. “So you’ll help me, then?” 

“Alya,” Lance moved towards her with a smile, taking her hand. “You’re going to Oriande!” 


	4. Learn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lotor recieves a visitor to his office, who gives him an interesting tip. Meanwhile, Alya begins her 'princess lessons' with Shiro and Lance, the two strange men she'd met in the abandoned theatre.

Typewriters clacked throughout the hallway as Lotor led the blond young woman behind him towards his office. “No,” he said calmly as they approached the door, which he held open to her with a charming smile. “We take all rumors very seriously in my office. Particularly ones about the former royal family.” Although, it seemed like every person in the entire city was talking about the supposed lost princess. And the reward her family was posting for her. “Even the most preposterous of rumors.” 

The thin blonde woman looked around and took in every inch of Lotors office, a smug grin plastered on his face. “Well, this is especially ridiculous,” she said, helping herself to one of the chairs in front of his desk. “She’s about as much of a royal as I am.” 

“Well, I do thank you for coming to me with this information… Nyma, was it?” he asked as he scooted into his own chair, and opened a notebook to take notes about what she was reporting.

She nodded, pulling her coat closed a bit tighter around her and crossing her legs. Without prompting, she continued to spill everything she knew. “She’s a street sweeper. From what I heard, she was sleeping under a bridge until she met them. Her name’s Alya.” 

Lotor gave her a curious look. He knew a street sweeper. She was the sweet girl he’d met that day. The one who panicked when that car had backfired... Had she said her name was Alya? No, there was no way she could be the one going around pretending to be royalty. And she _ couldn’t _be the actual princess. Without writing down what Nyma was telling him, he nodded and shut his notebook once more. 

Nyma seemed annoyed by his lack of immediate reaction. “Well?” she asked, flatly. “Aren’t you going to go arrest her or anything?” 

He slid the notebook away into the top drawer of his desk. “You’ve done your duty as a… good citizen of our Empire, Nyma. Now let me do mine. I’ve heard your gossip, now I’ll take care of the rest.”

She scoffed at him. “Gossip?!” she repeated, her voice getting shrill. “It’s not gossip, it’s the truth, they--” 

Lotor slammed the drawer shut with a loud BANG and Nyma’s jaw clamped shut again. His eyes were suddenly icy and very intense. It made her blood run cold--she’d pushed a Galra officer too far and now she was going to pay the price. He slowly stood up and came around the desk. Nyma rose, as well, trying not to take too many steps back, so that it didn't seem like she was running away from him. But Lotor grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her in. 

She could feel his breath on her face when he spoke next. “The next time I see your brother in the train station,” he said in a low, cold voice, “soliciting customers for your… newspaper business… Maybe I won’t look the other way.”

Nyma’s stomach dropped and she felt her knees go weak. How did he know? Had someone ratted her out? No… no, she knew better than to think that. With a gulp, she found herself quickly nodding. “Go,” Lotor demanded, letting go of her arm. 

Nyma scurried from his office, his door shutting with a decisive click behind her. Lotor let out a heavy sigh, alone in his office once more. He couldn’t just ignore an accusation like that. And people couldn’t just go around pretending they might be a part of the old royal family. As he turned back to the chair of his desk, he pulled a piece of memo paper from the tray on the corner of his desk and put his pen to it. 

A few moments later, he was approaching a nearby subordinate outside of his office and handing her the order to apprehend Alya the Street-sweeper, and bring her directly to him.

* * *

Lance dropped the thick history book on the desk in front of Alya with a dramatic thud. “Alya,” he hopped up so that he was sitting next to book in the desk before her. “Are you ready to become the Lost Princess Allura Melenor of Alteaaa-ya-ya-ya!” His voice curled up dramatically as he said it, and he punctuated it distinctly by mimicking his own echo.

Shiro, up on the stage, was wheeling out some sort of large chalkboard that he must have found abandoned backstage. They’d been meeting nearly every afternoon in the old altean theatre for Alya’s princess lessons, which so far had mostly consisted of learning royal table manners. Fortunately, according to Shiro, Alya already seemed to have a pretty good handle on royal etiquette for an amnesiac orphan. Something which Alya just chalked up to be her own common sense. A common sense that Lance, on the other hand, severely lacked. 

So now today they were moving on to the harder part; the history of the Altean Royal family and the crown. “No, I’m ready to find out who I am. I’m not going to lie to anyone,” she replied to him. Alya grimaced as she slid the heavy book closer to her, and the spine gave a sad crackling noise as she opened the front cover. “Oh no, I have to read _ this? _” she asked, her shoulders dropping. The book was falling apart, and she wasn’t about to be caught walking around the empire carrying the darn thing. 

“Oh no, there’s a couple of other books Shiro’s got for you,” Lance replied with a smirk. They both looked up at the man on the stage, who was quickly making good work of cleaning the cobwebs and old chalk off the chalkboard. “And besides,” Lance hopped off the desk so he was standing next to Alya, “it’s not going to be a _ lie. _We’re just going to help you remember the truth about who you really are!” 

Alya snorted, looking him up and down. “I’m not a fool, Lance! What on earth is in this for you?” 

His jaw hung open for a second, having not expected for her to call him out on his game so quickly. But all the same, that smile never left his cheeks. “If the remaining members of the Altean royal family recognize you,” he said hesitantly. “Then Shiro and I will be compensated for finding and helping you with a _ small _ reward. That’s all. Like I said; we were going to Oriande one way or another.” 

“And if they say I’m not her,” she retorted. Because that was the most likely option of the two. 

“Then it’ll all just have been one big misunderstanding, and you’ll be one step closer to finding who you truly are,” he said. “Come on, Alya, we talked about this already! That, and it gets us _ all _ out of the Galran Empire, which means everybody wins!” 

She weighed his words in her mind with a sigh. Did she have any way she could refuse at this point? She’d already said yes to the both of them, and Lance was right about getting them all out of the empire. And about Oriande… 

“How am I supposed to just remember someone I’m not even sure that I am?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. 

Lance beamed and dashed over to the stage, where Shiro already had a date written down, along with several lines of notes. The first, he had listed as Princess Allura’s birth date, followed by a location. Then below that he had a series of facts and dates of events in the princess’ life. He’d also at some point during Lance and Alya’s discussion, gone and grabbed another old book from what he’d brought with him. Alya didn’t even want to think about what he and Lance had gone through to obtain these books without arousing suspicion. Shiro handed the second book off to Lance and requested that he hand it to Alya, which he quickly obliged. 

“All right,” he grinned as he put the chalk down on the thin wooden tray beneath the board. He clapped his hands together to get the dust off as he turned to face her like some sort of professor of all things Altean. “First things first. I’m going to refer to you when I’m talking about Princess Allura, okay? Today you’re just going to learn about her personal history. See if anything maybe jogs some sort of memories for you. We’ll worry about the rest of the family later.” 

Alya took the book from Lance, opening to the first page. It seemed to be a small scrapbook someone had put together of the royal family through the years. It was amazing that the Galra hadn’t found this and burned it! “Sounds good,” she agreed, smiling at the pictures of the Altean daughters. 

“Perfect,” Shiro nodded. “Now, you… Princess Allura… you were born to King Alfor and Queen Melenor, in your mother’s favorite country home near the ocean. I say country home, but it was more like a small castle.” He pointed to the notes he’d written on the chalkboard as he referred to them. Meanwhile, Lance had made himself comfy on the staircase up onto the stage. The history lessons were more Shiro’s strong suit. “You showed a great affinity for animal care when you were very young, having kept several mice you’d found as pets.” 

“Pet mice?” Alya repeated with a laugh. She wasn’t sure she’d ever even seen a mouse that wasn't out on the filthy streets! But she thought maybe she would like to have a few as pets. She could also imagine the small group of them in her mind. 

“Yes, three of them at the time, if my memory serves,” Shiro answered. 

“What were their names?” Lance said in a low voice up to Shiro. Factoids were great, but the emotional connections to those facts were what was gonna sell Alya to the royal family. 

“Oh! Right, of course! They were named after some heroes from a story you’d read. Pike, Block, and Meklavar. You and your sisters liked to play out games from that story for a time, until you got the mice. And then you found it more fun to torment your stewardess with them. Sometimes you’d hide the mice in her tea set, or you’d leave them in her coat pockets.” 

“Charming kid,” Lance remarked with a snort. Shiro quickly shut him up by shooting a broken piece of chalk at him. “Ow!” Alya also made sure to shoot him a look. He was way too smug for her liking.

“But, of course, then she’d get your mother and father.” He laughed a little bit, as if recalling one such occasion for himself. “You always would behave really quickly when your father got involved.” 

“Well yeah, he was the king,” Lance said. “It’s not like you had much choice.” 

Alya huffed at him interrupting _ yet again _ and turned the page to find a picture of just what Shiro had said: The youngest of the princesses holding three mice of various sizes. She wondered how the princess might have managed to convince the mice to stay still long enough for a photograph. Must have bribed them with their favorite cheeses. “Actually,” Shiro said, his voice tinged with annoyance at his own friend, “The King Alfor was always much less harsh on the youngest daughter. There did seem to be a favor towards her in most situations. He was gentle with her, even when she was the troublemaker.”

“Oh, well that makes sense,” Lance grinned over at Alya. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she made a face. 

“Troublemaker? Who’s literally a princess?” he laughed. “I mean, you wandered into an abandoned theatre and demanded fake IDs from the first two people you found.” 

“I did what I had to do!” she retorted, feeling her patience growing thin very quickly. 

“Okay!” Shiro cut the two off, sounding exasperated. “Clearly personal history of Princess Allura isn’t going to work today.” He turned to set the chalk back down and rub the temple of this forehead. If Lance and Alya didn’t stop bickering, it was not only going to give him a headache, it was going to prevent them from pulling this off. Why did Lance always have to be right? A potential future princess was the last person he wanted to be arguing with, whether she was actually royal blood of not. He turned back to the two, clapping his hands together again. “Okay! Let’s try poise and grace instead!” 

Maybe, if he was lucky, they could get to dancing and the physical activity would help the two blow off steam. “Both of you, get up here,” he instructed. 

“What? Me?” Lance asked, looking stunned. 

“Yes, you.” Shiro shot him a look that he hoped conveyed just how serious he was about it. “You’re going to have to be around the Altean royal family, too, and frankly you could use a refresher.” 

Alya gave Lance a smug grin that she hoped matched the ones he’d given her as she climbed up the stairs past him. From the stunned look on his face, it seemed like it worked. But he got up and followed her onto the stage, anyways. Once they were up there, Shiro went ahead and pushed the chalkboard out of the way, and took Alya’s coat for her. Easier to move without the extra bulk. 

Shiro turned back to her, standing tall in a show of demonstration. “Now, when you are royalty and you walk into a room, you need to hold yourself as if you’re above everyone else in the room, whether you feel like you are or not,” he said, walking towards her with a poise Alya wasn’t sure she could imitate. But, then his hands were guiding her, poking her in the spine and tugging at her shoulder. “Shoulders back, and stand tall. Not straight, but tall.” 

She nodded, stretching her neck a bit. “No, no,” he chuckled. “Too much. Naturally tall. Not like a giraffe reaching for its food.” 

Alya’s cheeks flushed with her own brief embarrassment. “Sorry,” she murmured, relaxing a bit. But all the same, she kept her shoulders held back the way he’d shown, and kept her head up. 

“Good, good,” he smiled, putting a hand on one of her shoulders. “Now, when you move, you don’t want to walk, like you’re somewhere with places to be and responsibilities to see to. No, royalty is never late and royalty doesn’t answer to what anyone wants of them.” He gently pulled her forward, leading her across the stage. “Try not to walk, so much as float where you need to go.” 

As they crossed, he stopped and let her go by herself. She moved at a leisurely pace, keeping her posture upward. “I feel a little foolish,” she finally giggled. “Is this floating?” 

Lance snickered a little bit, not able to hold it in anymore. He’d been circling Shiro and Alya like a vulture, observing the two. “Floating like a sinking boat,” he replied. 

She snapped around to look at him, her eyes like daggers again. “Okay, bowing,” Shiro sighed, before Alya could throw a blow back at Lance. “When you approach another member of the monarchy, they will bow or curtsy before you first. You are a crown princess, so you are above them, ergo they must bow first.” He demonstrated his own bow for her with a flourish of his hand. “Then, you would return that bow. Or, for you, it would be a curtsy.” But as he straightened up again, Alya already had one toe pointed perfectly behind her and lowered herself, flaring her skirt out a bit in a perfect curtsy. “Oh… Where did you learn that?” 

Alya straightened up quickly, her cheeks turning pink again. “What? Did I do it wrong?” she asked quickly. 

“No!” Shiro shook his head, his face showing how amazed was. “No, not at all!” 

“Okay,” she said, sounding on unsure. She wasn’t sure what to make of his reaction. “So what happens after the bow?” 

“Right!” Shiro shook his head, returning to his former poise. “After the bow, your hand will receive a kiss.” 

Before Alya had time to react, a warm hand had grabbed her around her fingers, and pulled it up to place one such kiss slyly upon the back of her hand. She gasped, turning to face Lance, and pulled her hand away. Her mouth was held agape, but she didn’t have any words to say to him. Fortunately, Shiro was approaching the two of them again, moving on as if it hadn’t happened. “You’re doing well, Alya,” he said. “Just remember, if I can learn all of this, then you can. I don’t have one ounce of royal blood, and I managed to work my way into the court.” 

“You did well with the curtsy,” Lance offered, nodding. 

“You did the curtsy _ perfectly, _” Shiro agreed, with an expression that said he was more than just impressed with her. “Something in you knows this. You’re a natural.” He held his hand out, offering an arm for her to hold. “Just follow what I do.” 

Alya took his elbow and together, they attempted another ‘floating’ sort of movement across the stage. When they were halfway across, Shiro stopped and pulled her shoulders back again. Which was just about enough poking for her. “Okay!” she huffed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “You’re the one who doesn’t stand straight! You walk like you’re trying not to step on the flowers!” 

“Well I’m sorry you feel that way, but if you can find a better teacher, be my guest,” Shiro chuckled, not having taken any offense to her small outburst. She was right; he wasn’t a natural at this sort of thing. For him, it was all an act. 

“Yeah,” Lance said. “I’m not going to be much help to you, here, princess. He’s the one with years of ‘booooowing and curtsying’ in court.” 

“Bowing is a show of respect, Lance,” Shiro did sound annoyed with his younger companion. 

“I know,” Lance replied, a little defensive. “I’ve bowed to someone before.” 

“Well, she seems to have the hang of bowing, so moving on,” Shiro sighed, clearly ready to drop that argument. The rest of Alya’s afternoon with the two consisted of quickly reviewing the place setting on a table, and general etiquette. After the disagreement with Shiro, the air had seemed to have been taken from Lance’s sails. So eventually, they went back and started to go over the royal history outlined in the book that Shiro had given her. 

They continued meeting in the theatre each afternoon for a week after that. And the two of them had offered to let Alya stay in the little hole-in-the-wall room that they squatted in. There was no bed; only one very lumpy mat that Lance jokingly referred to as the ‘sack of potatoes.’ Every morning, Alya would wake up, go off to her job, and spend the day sweeping streets, while reviewing the history in her head. Occasionally, she'd lose herself in daydreams of fanciful royal parties. Or imagining what it would be like to dance with royalty. But after a few hours, she’d be done with her work, she’d get paid her little bit of coin, and she’d head back off to the old theatre to meet Lance and Shiro. 

Fortunately, each time they met, Shiro seemed more impressed with Alya’s knowledge and progress. He’d even asked her more than once if she’d been reading other books, besides the ones he’d provided for her. She never had. 

Sometimes, curiously, Alya would have the right answer to a question and Lance or Shiro would tell her that she was wrong. That was always frustrating. Like the time when Lance tried to argue with her that her best friend growing up was _ not _ her big sister Hira but was, in fact, her caretaker Coran’s daughter. “I know who my best friend is, Lance!” Alya had snapped at him, which seemed to catch him off guard and had set off an argument between the two that had lasted the rest of the afternoon. Alya _ knew _ who Princess Allura’s best friend had been, and it had been Hira. She couldn't remember where she’d read it or how she knew it, but she _ knew _ it. Shiro had hit Lance in the back of the head with one of the history books for upsetting Alya when he thought she hadn’t been looking. 

Despite those few hiccups along the way, each day Alya was growing more confident in herself and her ability to get everything memorized. There was a lot, and she wasn’t sure she believed Shiro that she was really going to be quizzed on it. But sometimes she’d give an answer, and Shiro would give her a strange look and ask her when he told her that. Which made her feel great, because clearly she was doing something right! 

On one of the final days, though, when she came in, he didn’t have the chalkboard pulled out at all. And he and Lance both had their coats taken off, and Lance’s sleeves were rolled up. Alya looked between the two, nervously. But Shiro was beaming at her before she could ask any questions. “Alya! Perfect! You’re here! It’s going to be a fun lesson today,” he turned back to something he was fiddling with behind Lance. 

“Oh?” she asked, curiously. She was still a little nervous. But Lance was smiling at her, and it wasn’t a smug grin this time. 

“Today, you’re going to learn to dance.” As Shiro said it, he dropped the needle onto the record he had loaded on the record player. Which was apparently what he had there behind Lance’s back. Alya felt instantly relieved. The theatre was filled with opulent sounding music--a whole orchestra, from the sound of it. It filled her with warmth and brought a smile to her face. 

She removed her coat, feeling excited for this lesson. Once she had her own sleeves rolled up, Lance and Shiro had crossed closer to her and she held her arms out expectantly for Shiro. 

“Oh no, not me,” Shiro chuckled. “_ Lance _will be your partner dancing today.” 

The two looked at each other, Lance looking just as stunned as Alya felt. Because Shiro had not disclosed that little fact to Lance at all prior to this moment. “I can’t dance,” Lance replied, his normal confidence absent from his voice. 

“Which is why you’re going to learn,” Shiro said, taking Alya by the hand and leading her towards Lance. “Alya’s not the only one who needs to learn things before going before the royals.” 

Lance gulped, but obliged and took Alya’s hand when Shiro offered it to him. Alya didn’t look too annoyed at the prospect of dancing with him, which was good news. Normally anytime he said anything or made any joke, she would quip back pretty quickly. Once he had her hand in his, she gently set her other hand up on his shoulder, and he returned with his free hand on her hip. “Perfect,” Shiro grinned. 

He showed them the basic step they were going to make for this dance, and the turn Lance would do after several counts. And then they let them try it on their own, only stopping them once initially to gently remind Alya to let Lance lead. “You’re doing good…” he would occasionally compliment them as he counted out the steps. “One, two, three… one, two, three…” 

Lance was not a natural at this, it seemed. He was stiff and nervous, his movements a little jerky. “You’re overthinking it,” Alya said in a polite voice, quiet enough so that just Lance could hear her. 

“Thanks,” he muttered, impetuously. He wasn’t looking at her so much as he was looking down at their feet. 

“No, really,” she said, trying to be encouraging. “You can’t tell me you’ve _ never _ danced with any of those _ many _ girls you were telling me about before. This is just like that, but slower. Fancier. More pretentious.” 

That got a smile from him, and he chuckled, looking back up at her. And it was working, the distraction was loosening him up. “Pretentious? Princess, you surprise me. I would have thought you’d be enjoying this very sort of fancy thing.” 

“I enjoy dancing,” she replied with a grin of her own. “I’m not that fancy, even if I am some sort of princess.” 

“Well, you certainly--” he stopped talking when he accidentally stepped on her toe and she suddenly yelped. “Sorry! I’m sorry!” 

Alya turned over her shoulder to cast a look to Shiro. This was his fault for giving her a dance partner who had never done slow ballroom dancing before. Shiro’s eyebrows were raised in shock, one of them effectively disappearing beneath the white patch of fringe in front of his face. “Just…” he stammered, shaking his head. “Just…” He made a motion of taking a deep breath moving his arms outward in a ‘let it go’ sort of motion. 

She rolled her eyes and turned back to Lance, who still was looking very guilty for his mistake. But Shiro was counting out the beat again, and a moment later he was leading her in the steps again. But the nice conversation they’d been having had been effectively ended. It was actually kind of boring without the two of them joking with each other. 

A devilish smile came over Alya’s face, and as she stepped forward towards him, she stepped a little too close and playfully stepped on his toe right back. “Ow” he hissed, pulling his foot away from hers and stumbling a little. But Shiro was right behind him, so he didn’t fall and instead just sort of bumped into him. 

Shiro gave them as stunned look as Alya snickered, but they were already moving again, Lance trying the turn that Shiro had showed them. He was smiling, clearly unperturbed by the extremely minor injury to his toe. The music was turning a little bit, the tempo picking up and getting more playful. As if it was following their lead, rather than being a recording, frozen in time. 

Hearing Shiro chuckling in his own delight at the two finally getting along, they seemed to have the same idea at the exact same time. Lance’s eyes lit up at the grin that had come onto Alya's face, and he turned his head enough to point it towards Shiro. She nodded, biting her lower lip. They both turned their heads to look at Shiro, coming to a stop. 

Shiro looked curiously at them, but before he could ask them why they’d stopped dancing, the music suddenly swung to life again, faster than before. And Lance and Alya took off together, effectively chasing Shiro by dancing right towards him. His face changed to one of pure panic as he tried to dodge out of their way. But the moment he dodged, Lance quickly turned Alya and they changed directions to follow him, laughing the entire way. 

They chased him all around the stage, and followed him until he eventually ran off the stage altogether, and when he was gone, Lance lifted Alya and spun her around, her skirt twirling out beneath her. She gave a delighted squeal before he finally set her down on her feet. Alya couldn’t stop laughing, and it was the hardest that she could ever remember laughing! 

“Okay, well,” Shiro huffed his breath as he came back onto the stage. He was fit, still, but they had him running back and forth across a grand stage! “Glad to see you’re having fun!” 

Lance had to hold Alya up as the two finally stopped laughing. “You should’ve seen your face,” he said to Shiro between his fits of giggles. Alya stood up straight again, still giggling, and going to sit down on one of the nearby chairs, and fix where her skirt had bundled up from the way Lance had spun her. 

“You got me,” Shiro held his hands up to admit his defeat. He was smiling; it was nearly impossible to ruffle Shiro’s feathers now that they knew they were going to get out of the Empire. “You’re both very charming. And apparently _ you, _” he pointed over to Alya, “are a natural dancer. You get to sleep on the sack of potatoes tonight! You’ve earned it.”

Alya chuckled, letting her skirt fall now that she’d straightened it out. “You say that like I’ve graduated your course,” she remarked. 

“For the history lessons? You have,” Shiro answered, nodding. “I don’t know what more I can teach you. But we’ll review. And there’s some more dances you have to learn. But you’ve done well.” 

A wide smile spread over her face. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever heard those words in her life! She’d done well at something--and something that felt so easy and natural, too. Like she was riding a bike she had no memory of how to ride. Maybe there was something to this whole royalty thing, after all. It was starting to get hard _not_ to believe she wasn’t falling into a life that seemed to fit her…

Could she really be a princess after all?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! It was, admittedly, a little bit of filler as we got to know our characters a little bit better. The next chapter is MUCH longer, but there was no good way to split it up into two smaller chapters. So get ready! The next one is a doozy!


	5. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lotor gives Alya a frightening warning. And Lance and Alya finally find common ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Okay so, first things first. Thank you everyone who's reading this fic! It really honestly makes me so happy that people are enjoying it, because when I went into this fic I honestly was just kinda like "voltron AU based on the musical version of Anastasia? Let's cater EXACTLY to me!" But having other people who are really enjoying it is amazing. So thank you!
> 
> Second, this is EASILY the longest chapter yet. And probably the longest single chapter of any non-one-shot fic I've ever written. There wasn't a great place to split it up, so it's just going to have to be as long as it is. So I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Lastly, I do have a few content warnings for this chapter, so I'm going to go ahead and list those here:  
CW: Mentions of violence, alcohol usage, and attempted sexual abuse

Lotor gazed out the window of his new office, which was freshly redecorated since the Galra had decided to make the old palace into their offices. “Yes,” he said into the phone receiver held in front of his mouth. “Yes, the view is quite lovely. I can see the river from here!” He paused. “There’s no need to worry, Commander Sendak, your confidence in me is secure. I won’t let you down… yes… yes, I know you worked with my father during the revolution.” 

One of his subordinates knocked on his door, and he turned to face her, not taking the speaker from his ear, so that he could still hear Sendak. “We found her,” she said in a soft voice, trying to be courteous and not interrupt the phone call too much. Lotor nodded at her and made a motion with his hand to signal for Ezor to send the girl in. 

“Yes, I understand, Sendak,” he said into the phone once Ezor shut the door behind her. “I’ve just received word, actually, that our little troublemaker has been found. Yes, I’ll take care of it.” He waited until Sendak had hung up his end of the line, before hanging up his own. A moment later, the door opened again, and in walked Ezor and Zethrid, with Alya the streetsweeper in tow.

Lotor smiled at her, and motioned with his hand to dismiss the two soldiers with her. After they’d both pressed their fists to their hearts as the Galran salute, they turned and left. Alya’s jaw was clenched shut, and she was fidgeting with her own hands. She’d just been on her way to collect her broom to work for the day, when the soldiers had snatched her up. No one would know where she was…

“Relax, you’re safe here,” Lotor said, seemingly reading her mind. He motioned to the chair by his desk for her to sit down. “Sit. There’s no need for formality.” 

Alya did sit in the chair. But not out of a sense of comfort. No, she was being obedient, because it was better for her to be safe. Lotor slowly made his way around his own desk, gazing with a smile out the window that overlooked the city square and the river. “It’s a beautiful city, isn’t it?” he asked. “I was just recently moved into this office and I already love just standing here and looking at the people down there. I admire them! They’re all working to make a brighter future for themselves, and that will make for a brighter future for the empire. And then sometimes I hear rumors about a few bad people causing trouble and I just wonder why? Why would a few bad apples try and ruin this empire?

“From my office window, I can see all the way to the train station! It looks small from here, but it’s really not that far… And do you see that golden building all boarded up over to the right here?” He turned to see if she was looking where she was pointing and Alya obligingly nodded. “That’s the old private theatre of the Altean royal family. It was named for King Alfor’s father, Alferen. They say in it’s heyday, it could house over a seven hundred people for its shows. It rarely did, though, it was mostly kept private for the royal family.” He paused, gazing at it. “Now it sits empty. Boarded up and probably rotting inside, no doubt. And I hear there’s some funny business going on there.” 

Alya tried to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat. He’d stopped talking, and the silence was pressing in on her. She didn’t like it. “Why did you bring me here?” she asked, her voice not sounding nearly as strong as she’d hoped. 

“Why don’t you tell me?” Lotor asked, turning towards her, his face serious. Any traces of kindness she’d seen there previously had been replaced. She wanted to believe she was being paranoid--he’d been kind to her when they first met. 

But a moment later, his face changed back and he smiled at her again. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to frighten you,” he said, turning to glance back out the window. “I…” He hesitated, pointing down to the city square. “I’d almost stopped looking for you out there every morning. You haven’t been sweeping in the square lately.” He turned back to her and sat down in his own chair. His face _ was _ kind, she thought to herself. And his features were delicate--she almost wondered how someone like him had managed to climb his way into the Galran ranks. “Your name’s Alya, right?” 

“Yes…” 

He smiled, holding a hand out for her. “I’m afraid we haven’t been introduced properly. I’m General Lotor Zarkon.” When she didn’t reach forward and shake the hand, he hesitantly took it back. “The uniform and office give a frightening impression, but I promise you’re safe here. I’m really not so bad…” He said the last part almost like a singsong voice, which she made a face at. “See? I… have a sense of humor…” 

She didn’t find him very funny, and his attempts really just had him floundering. She wasn’t even really sure what to say to him, so she just sat in silence, trying not to laugh at how awkward he was. 

Lotor gave a forced, wheezy sort of laugh, as if trying to prove that he did find the whole thing pretty funny. But when Alya gave him a startled look, he waved his hands, shaking his head. “No, no! Sorry, I’m just…”

Somehow, that seemed to get a giggle from her. “Joking?” she asked, covering her mouth. 

“Yes,” he answered, smiling again. He held his hand out to offer to shake hers again, and this time, she took it. “Do you have a chill from the cold outside? I can offer you some tea,” he motioned to a fresh tea set on his desk. Alya nodded, and Lotor quickly set to pouring cups for the both of them. After handing one to her, he took the first sip, lifting it towards her in a ‘cheers’ sort of motion as he did. 

Alya gratefully took the cup and sipping at it. _ Pinky up, _ she could hear Shiro say in her head, and automatically remembered her manners. “So why am I here?” she asked, genty setting her cup back down on the saucer. “Am I being charged for something?” 

“No, why?” Lotor asked, setting his own cup down as well. “Should you be?”

Her mouth hung open as she shook her head, feeling nervous in this man’s presence again. But he smiled at her and shrugged. “You have a job. Money. Food. You’re here because you’re a good person, Alya. And that’s why I’m warning you to leave this whole… princess business behind you.” 

Alya could feel her stomach drop out from under her. How could he possibly know about all that? She’d only met this man one time on the street, by pure coincidence. Could he really see her from his window? Was he watching for her to go into the palace each afternoon? “I don’t…” she stammered. “I don’t understand.” Perhaps if she played dumb, he’d let her go. 

He gave her a serious look, different from the one on his face before, when he was standing at the window. Lotor looked almost as if he was concerned for her. “If you really were who you’re pretending to be, they’d kill you,” he said in a low voice. “Without any hesitation. And pretending to be her… starting up _ rumors _ that she’s alive?” 

“Everyone daydreams, General,” Alya said with a nervous laugh. “I’m sure even you imagine being someone else sometimes. I’m no different than anyone else. It’s just… innocent fantasies.” 

“It’s a dangerous fantasy,” he said, his voice still low and serious. Like he was imploring her to see reason. “The Altean Royal family is gone, Alya… they don’t exist.” He watched her face for a moment, looking for any sign that he was getting through to her. But she was hard to read; her face was so controlled all the time. He sighed and stood up again, coming around to her side of the desk, and turning the second seat next to her so that they could face each other better. Once he’d sat down, he took her hand into his and she didn’t fight it.

“Alya,” he said. “My own father was one of the men who attacked this very palace that night. When they took the queen, and her daughters… I was just a child, but I lived here in this city. I remember watching the east wing of the palace go up in flames from my window.” 

“I don’t want to hear this,” Alya shook her head. Her limbs felt weak, and she wasn’t sure if it was the nervous energy or if it was the tea. 

“My father followed his orders, as I must do mine,” he grabbed her hand before she could get up. “I know that it’s not a good story, but I lived it, Alya. No one got away that night. They took all the children captive, and they killed the queen on the steps of the palace. For everyone to see.” 

Alya didn’t look at him--she couldn’t bring herself too. It was too much. But he continued on, anyways. “They kept the daughters captive for a time, waiting to see if the King would return from Oriande to bargain for their lives. But then Altean soldiers came to fight back… And then I remember one night, my father was called out. I asked him not to leave, I was scared that he was being called for another battle in the city. But he went… with his own personal gun with him.

“The next morning, the whole world knew. The Altean royal children were gone. The Galra revolution was that easy… I heard the shots from my window. I heard their screams. But the one thing I remember was the silence afterward. Like the whole world had gone.” 

Alya still couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye, but that was okay. He wasn’t looked at her either. He was looking somewhere else. Somewhere far away. “I asked my father many times afterwards, but he always just shook his head and told me not to concern myself. My own mother died of shame. But he followed his orders and did his duty for the good of the empire. As must I… But I ask myself everyday, could I do what he’d done? If I’d been told to pull the trigger on those children... ” There was a long silence before he spoke again. He looked up again at Alya again, locking eye contact before she could pull away. “So please, Alya. You have to be careful of what your ‘innocent fantasies’ bring. To the Galra, it’s that easy…”

Alya didn’t move for a moment. She wasn’t sure if she could. In a way, she felt frozen by him. “Thank you for your warning, General Zarkon…” she murmured, looking away from him. In her mind, she couldn’t decide if it was truly a warning, or a threat. Maybe, in a way, it was both. 

He looked down at where he had her hand clasped. She’d hardly noticed he was holding it anymore. “Please,” he said. “Call me Lotor.” She nodded with a small smile, which he returned. After a moment of silence passed between the two of them, he raised one hand to lift her chin up. “Your eyes… It’s easy to get lost in those eyes, you know.” 

Alya didn’t know what to say to that, so she just looked down at their hands again. “I’m late for work,” she murmured. It was the only thing she could come up with. 

He let go, nodding and standing up again. “You’re free to go,” he said, motioning for the door. Alya smiled with relief and stood up, turning towards the door. She had barely gotten a couple step away when Lotor grabbed her arm again. She froze. “As your friend, Alya… be careful. As General of the Galra Empire Lotor Zarkon, though… be _ very _ careful.” 

Alya turned and locked eyes with him again, feeling her stomach drop once more. His expression had the same hard features as before, and it sent an icy chill down her spine. But as his face softened, he let her go again, and without being able to run, Alya’s legs couldn’t carry her from his office fast enough. 

It had definitely been both a warning _ and _a threat.

* * *

“I’m telling you, Lance, you should have seen the look on his face,” Alya chewed on her thumb nail as the two walked down the uneven street. After her little chat with the General that morning, the three had thought it best not to have their daily princess lessons at the theatre. Shiro, in fact, had called them off entirely for the afternoon. Besides that point, the prices of train tickets had spiked since Alya had been to the train station--a result of the booming demand as more people panicked and tried to escape the Galra Empire, versus the little supply as trains were cancelled left and right. So now, suddenly, the three of them had an added problem of needing more money for train tickets, since apparently Lance had indulged a bit when he’d told her that they “had three tickets.” In fact, in his possession, he had _ zero. _

Plus there was the little fact that they still needed to get a set of forged papers for Alya, and Lance no longer trusted Nyma for the job. He had his suspicions as to who had gone ‘gossiping’ to Galra officials about what they’d been up to. “Which general was it?” Lance asked again. He was trying to keep his own worry off his face, but he wasn’t successful. 

“His name’s Lotor Zarkon,” Alya replied. 

Lance made a sound somewhere between a scoff and a groan. “That guy who stands out in front of the palace everyday and tells us how _ great _ the city is?” he asked. 

“Yes,” she nodded. They were moving fast, and hadn’t left each other’s sides since Alya had told them everything. It was safer to stick together. Shiro, on the other hand, had had other plans, opting to go directly back to where they were squatting, and staying hidden. Lance and Alya were tasked with heading to one of Lance’s contacts looking to trade some of Shiro’s old royal effects for a bit of extra currency. 

As they made their way down the road towards a seedier side of the city, the amount of people out on the streets had began to diminish. Alya had never been here before, but Lance clearly seemed to know his way. They past by a series of old storefronts, most of which looked as if they hadn’t sold goods since the Galran Revolution. But a couple of them had lights on--mostly restaurants that Alya wouldn’t exactly consider fine dining. It was from one of these restaurants that a door suddenly burst open, and three drunken men came stumbling out in a chorus of laughter. 

Lance instinctively held an arm out in front of Alya as the raucous men came tumbling into the cold night air. One of the men, Alya recognized from the train station. The one who’d sent her to Lance. Rolo, if she was remembering correctly. 

And it didn’t take long for Rolo to notice them either. “Oh, hey Lance,” he said with a grin on his face that didn’t exactly make Alya feel secure. “Heard you went and pissed off my sister.”

“Really?” Lance said in a plaintive tone. “I didn’t know.” 

“Woah-oh! Lance McClain?” one of the other two men asked, sounding like he was faking how impressed he was. “Working with Nyma? I thought he was too good for us since he went and got himself a fancy job up at the Palace! Hadn’t heard from him since!” 

“Looks like he got himself a new girlfriend!” the tallest of the three men teased, and Alya immediately bristled. The tall man laughed, shoving Rolo in the shoulder. “My condolences to your sister.” 

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Lance rolled his eyes, still holding and arm out between the three of them and Alya. 

“She the lucky girl going with you to Oriande, then?” The tall man kept egging him on, inching closer to them, despite Rolo looking like he’d rather be anywhere but between these two pairs of acquaintances. “Your perfect fake Princess Allura? She got you bowing down to you yet?” 

“Come on, let’s go,” Lance muttered, grabbing Alya’s hand and tugging her along, trying to make his way around the three of them. 

“Wait, stay! Have a drink with us, Lance!” The shorter of the two men whose names Alya didn’t know grabbing Lance by the arm, pulling him back towards them. 

“Don’t touch him!” Alya snapped before she could think. It was enough to make him let go of Lance’s arm. “Let’s go, Lance. I don’t like these people.” 

Rolo looked offended at that. “Oh, well that’s no way to thank me after I practically hooked you two up,” he huffed. Alya shot him a look, but when she turned back around, she was face to face with the taller of the two men. 

“What, you too good for us, princess?” he sneered, and Alya could smell the alcohol on his breath. She wrinkled her nose up at it. 

“Well if you don’t want her, Lance,” the shorter man shoved him away from Alya so that she was trapped between the two men. “I’ll take her!” In an instant, he was reaching up to touch or grab Alya’s face, and she had grabbed his finger, yanking it backwards. But when he yelped in pain, suddenly all hell broke loose. 

“Alya!” she heard Lance yell from where she could see him being held by Rolo. And at the same time, the taller of the two men grabbed her around her waist from behind, trying to lift her up. She jerked her fist back, punching blindly and feeling her knuckles connect with his face. The man dropped her again, and she quickly turned, her fist actually aiming towards his face this time. He grabbed his nose as a fresh stream of blood started gushing from it, falling to his knees. 

The short man lunged at her, but she darted just before he could grab her, and he fell to the ground with a thud. As he was scrambling to get back onto his feet, Alya spotted one of the store windows nearby had been smashed in, some wooden beams or panels inside. She ran towards it, reaching in and grabbing the plank. “Get back here!” the short man was shouting, chasing after her. 

As soon as he was close enough, she swung the plank directly at his head. He lifted an arm up and managed to block it, but the ice was slick over here. So while he tried to maintain his footing, she quickly swung again, making contact with his shoulder and sending him crumpling to the pavement. 

“Alya!” Lance yelled again. Rolo had him pinned face down up against a street side bench, and was holding his arms behind his back. She growled in frustration, and ran over, landing a blow on Rolo’s back with the plank. Which was enough for him to free his grip on Lance, who immediately turned to land a punch on Rolo himself. 

The tall man, who still had one hand clamped firmly to his nose, was stalking closer to them. But Alya was not having it, anymore. She’d spent her day being captured by Galra soldiers, taken to a general who acted like her friend one minute and threatened her the next, had to look over her shoulder everywhere she walked, and had her favorite part of her day cancelled! She'd had it up to her ears, and if that meant she was about to take it out on these jerks, then so be it.

She lifted the board over her shoulder with both hands on it, and let out a guttural scream, running at him. The man’s face changed to one of pure panic as she came at him, and he turned and ran. “Wait!” Rolo yelped, quickly pushing himself up and chasing after him. 

She turned, seeing the short man still struggling to stand up on the ice near the empty storefront. She screamed again, deciding that she was just going to run after him, instead. But he, also, scrambled away, eventually getting enough footing to send him running the other direction as his friends. “That’s right!” she screamed after him. “Run away! Next time, I won’t go so easy!!” 

“Alya!” Lance was laughing over near the bench. 

She looked back over at him, catching her breath. “I thought I was supposed to be the pampered princess, and you were supposed to be the rough and tough street kid!” she commented with a grin. She let the plank of wood go, letting it clatter to the cobblestone with a thunk. 

“Where did you learn that?” he asked, catching his breath from his struggle with Rolo and from laughing so hard. She had pretty much just took on three drunken brawlers on the street by herself. Lance was more than impressed, to say the least. 

Alya crossed back over to where he was, shaking her skirts out as she did. “You don’t walk halfway through the empire without learning how to take care of yourself,” she said simply. His face changed a little when she said that, but he nodded. Maybe it was best if she didn’t linger on that. “What about you? I imagined you’d be better at fighting _ for _me, for all your smart talk… How’d you know them?” 

Lance tucked his hands into his coat pocket, looking down at his feet. “I was a small kid,” he said simply. “Not great at fighting. I let them do that for me. They fought. I dealt with people. It was a win-win for all of us.” 

Alya nodded as she processed what he said. “So you grew up around here, then?” 

A smile spread over his face as he looked from her, down the road. “Come on,” he said, tossing her one of his best grins, and holding a hand out for her. “I’ll show you on the way.” 

Alya smiled, and took the hand. He pulled her along, and soon enough they were running down the streets of the city, Lance seeming to know exactly which way he was looking to go each time. It amazing Alya the way he never even stopped once to check his bearings. He never seemed to have to look around and remember where he was now. The city was just that familiar to him. 

After a few blocks, they came to a tall set of steps, that seemed to go up several stories, buildings flanking on either said. Alya couldn’t even see what was at the top. But Lance pulled her up the steps. “Where are we going?” she called up to him, just a few stairs behind. 

“I wanna show you my favorite spot!” he called back, his voice sounding like an excited child’s. Like he was about to get a present. “You’ve seen Shiro’s royal version of the city! I want to show you mine!” Alya just smiled to herself and followed. When they reached the peak of the staircase, they were on some sort of common area. Like a park, but without the grass or trees. The stone extended off the side, like it was about to become a bridge around the other side of the building to their right. “Okay,” Lance turned to her, smiling. “Close your eyes. I’ll guide you.” 

She gave him a curious look, and was a little worried that he wouldn’t somehow cause her to trip if she did that. But all the same, she found herself closing her eyes and holding her hands out for him. 

His hands were warm, despite the evening’s frost, as he gently took them, and started guiding her which way he wanted her to go. Every now and then, he’d warn her were the stone beneath them was a bit uneven. So, to her pleasant surprise, she didn’t trip or fall as he guided her. They turned a few times as he guided her, which somehow just confused her more. Just when she was about to worry it was taking too long, Lance’s voice said. “Okay, stop. Keep your eyes closed.” Alya obliged. 

He let go of her hands, and a moment later she felt them on her shoulders as he turned her in the direction that he wanted. “Okay, perfect,” he said softly. She could still hear that he was smiling from the way his voice sounded. “Now… Open them!” 

The first thing that stuck out to Alya when she did was that they _ were _ on some sort of bridge. And that they were over the water! It was still, like the cold air that night was, but it sparkled with lights from both sides of the city. But even with the lights in the city glimmering, it was still dark enough out here to see all the glittering stars above. She turned both ways as she took the view in, taking in both sides of the city. But by far the best view was the one he’d turned her to face right when she opened her eyes. “Alya… Welcome to _ my _ Altea City!” 

She beamed, looking down at it. She could see the palace from here! She’d never seen it from this much of a distance before. When she was in the city, the buildings mostly all blocked it unless she was up close. But not here. From here, it _ was _ grand. The buildings around it all looked small and pale in comparison. It was so tall, she could hardly believe she’d never noticed just how tall it was. And the lights from the city seemed to make it glow. There were columns in front of the grand entrance, with their tops gilded and sparkling still. She was surprised the Galra hadn’t stripped all the gold off the building. Alya wasn’t sure if she could even count the number of windows from here, there were so many. It was so beautiful and quiet up here... “Oh, Lance,” she said in amazement. 

He beamed, clearly ecstatic with her appreciation for his proclaimed favorite spot in the city. “And if you look over there,” he pointed her gaze a bit to the left as he guided her towards a smaller, golden building. Even from here, she could make out that the windows were all boarded up. “That’s our theatre!” 

“Our theatre?” she asked, giggling. “I thought it was Queen Melenor’s private theatre.” 

“You know what I mean,” he laughed. A faint breeze caught Alya’s hair, and she inhaled the smell of the water. “So… do you like it?” 

“It’s wonderful,” she said, leaning against the stone rail in front of them, and Lance did the same. It was a gorgeous view. “So you grew up near here, then? One of those buildings?” She pointed over to the two buildings they’d just come from. 

Lance followed were she pointed and snickered. “Ah, no,” he replied with a shake of his head. He pointed down to an area of the city nearer to the river. The buildings there were much smaller than the rest of the city. And even from here, Alya could tell they were mostly abandoned and dark. “That’s where I lived growing up.” 

“Oh,” she blinked. “With your family?” 

“No,” he laughed. “My mom… she died when I was really young. And my father was gone before I could even remember.” 

Alya found herself watching Lance as he watched the city. “Oh dear…” she felt a pang of guilt for assuming. Shiro had even told her the first day they met that Lance had had it rough. “I’m sorry Lance.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, looking back at her with a smile on his face. “I was good at getting by! Whatever I couldn’t barter for, I just stole. I was quick enough to outrun any _ adult. _” He said it like he was almost mocking the adults, the way any kid would. “And like I said earlier; I was good at talking to people, and even better and out-talking them.”

“Makes sense,” Alya said, softly. 

“When you’re all you have, you end up clever or you end up dead,” Lance said with a soft laugh. After a moment, he leaned over and nudged her with his elbow. “But you know all about that, huh? The princess who walked halfway across the empire because a dream that she had told her to!” She softly laughed at him, shaking her head. When he said it like that, she supposed it did sound kind of silly. “You don’t give up. And you impress me everyday…” He was looking out at the city, unable to make eye contact with her. “No, more than that. You amaze me.” It was a moment before he finally drew his eyes over to lock on hers. “I’m sorry for the way I acted when we first met.” 

Alya felt the smile creep onto her face before she could hide it. She tried her best, though, and held her head up high. “I suppose I accept,” she teased. It brought a smile to his face, too, and they both found themselves giggling at it. 

Lance turned to look out over the water again. “Anyways... So... I would start everyday off over there,” he pointed a bit off to the right of the smaller buildings, leaning in close so that Alya could follow his finger. “If I didn’t have anything to get breakfast with, I’d just steal some bread from this older man who had his breakfast sitting outside of the bakery every day. Then,” he trailed his finger up and around a few buildings. “I’d head closer towards the palace. I got really good at pickpocketing. So by the time I made it there, I’d have plenty of stolen ‘souvenirs’ to sell to the people who were there to see the palace. This was back before the revolution, when Altea City still even had tourists.” Alya giggled at that. 

“I’d take that money, and I’d go buy myself a small lunch. Depending on how fruitful my day was, I’d maybe spring for a sandwich with meat in it! Then whatever was left I’d either save for clothes and shoes, or I’d try to turn it into more money.” He laughed at that. “I wasn’t very good at turning the money around when I was that young, though. That came later." 

“That’s why you know where you’re going so well,” Alya commented. 

“Oh, this city is all I know,” Lance looked over at her. “I’ve never been anywhere else! And even when I _ hated _ it growing up, I still loved it, then. And I love it now… or..." He considered the best way to say it. "I love Altea City. Not so much what it’s become. But Altea made me who I am.” 

“And the men back there?” Alya asked. “Who were they?” 

“Eh, they were some other kids I used to run around the city with back then,” he waved it off with a hand. “They didn’t like that I got a job at the palace for myself. You’re either part of the pack or you’re not. And I didn’t want to be part of that my whole life.” 

“How _did_ that happen?” she asked. It was a question she’d been wondering since Shiro had told her. “How does a street kid who steals his food every day end up working in the kitchen of the royal family?” 

Lance just laughed, shaking his head. “It’s not that big of a deal,” he answered. “I got lucky. I tried stealing food from this man… he was a big man. And he had a cart with so much food on it, that it amazed me. I thought he was selling the food, but it turns out he'd bought it, and was bringing it up to the palace.” He paused, and when Alya looked at him as if she wasn’t sure what he was talking about, he continued on. “He was a cook in the palace, gathering food for some big banquet the royal family was having. And when I stole from him, his son took pity on me and begged his dad not to turn me in. Instead, he offered me a job with him to pay him back for the food I stole. Eventually, I became really good friends with his son… Hunk.” 

She hadn’t heard that name before, and for a moment she worried that she had somehow inadvertently dredged up more old memories about people in Lance’s life who’d died. “What happened to them?” she asked, feeling nervous. 

“They left the city after the revolution,” he shrugged. “I don’t know where they went… or what became of them…” He sighed and shook his head. “So, I only worked in the palace for a little while before the Galra attacked. And now here I am. Again. Lance! Altea’s biggest troublemaker is now the Galra’s biggest con man! Or so they say...” 

Alya huffed a breath that was similar to a laugh, but she felt too nervous for it to be a true laugh. “What are we going to do?” she asked, remembering Lotor’s warning again. 

“Nothing,” Lance answered like it was obvious. When she gave him a curious look, he turned so that he was facing her a little better. “The way I see it, we have two options. The first one, where we listen to him. We stop the princess lessons, we stop getting our papers together, and we stay here. But then you’ll never get your answers. And Shiro? He’ll probably be caught eventually… and he’ll be executed.” He paused as that reality settled over them like a heavy weight. “The other option,” he finally continued after a breath, “is we do nothing, and we leave. Once we cross that border, we’re safe. And if I’m going to die, I’d rather die trying to do something about it than sitting in fear.” 

“That’s…” Alya blinked at him, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders a little bit. “That’s very wise, Lance.” 

“Yeah, what can I say? I’m just a pretty wise guy!” he preened a bit under her compliment, and his ego was immediately fixed back in place. She scoffed, shaking her head. But she was smiling all the same. His jokes had somehow grown on her in the short time they’d been friends. 

“Sometimes…” he said, measuring his words carefully again, because he wasn’t sure _ how _ to say what he wanted to say. “Sometimes the world has a way of telling you when it’s time to move on. This ‘revolution?’ The fact that they renamed Altea itself? Maybe those are just all signs that it’s time to go.” 

Alya smiled and reached over to take his hand. “Thank you, Lance,” she said softly. When he returned her smile, she looked back out over the city before them. “And thank you for showing me all this… You didn’t have to.”

“You’ve opened up to me and Shiro,” he shrugged. “Figured it was my turn to do the same.” He looked over at her, leaning his head down to rest his chin on his arm. “I trust you.” 

They sat like that for a minute or so, just smiling at each other. It was the warmest Alya had felt in the cold Altean air in a long time. But eventually, a gust of wind sent a shiver down their spines, which broke the spell. “Come on,” Lance laughed, holding and open arm for her to duck under. They huddled together for warmth, looking over the city again. “We’ll get out of here, Alya… but for tonight, there’s a good view… and a beautiful sky. Maybe in Oriande we’ll find out one of us _ has _a family.” 

Alya chuckled, shaking her head at him. “I’m sorry, Lance… I’m sure you must miss your mother a lot,” she sighed softly. 

Lance made a noise that Alya couldn’t discern the meaning of. But before she could think to ask, he was moving on. “Tell me about your pet mice,” he said, falling into the familiar routine of reviewing what she’d learned. 

She sat up straight, looking out over the city and recalling what she knew of the mice. “Their names were Pike, Block, and Meklavar…” she started reciting, thinking about all they’d told her. About the pranks with the mice, about how her stewardess hated the mice. Then she thought about how if she’d had those pet mice, she would let them live in her big dollhouse… and her mother would tell her not to tell anyone that she allowed it. “I loved them so much…” she breathed, feeling her eyes burn with the threat of tears. 

Lance looked over at her, concern written all over his face. He’d heard how her voice wavered. “Well? Don’t stop…” he said, unsurely. Alya had been doing so good at memorizing all the facts, but this was new. Maybe she was a better actress than he thought. 

Alya shifted, feeling uncomfortable with how he stared at her now. Like she was fragile. “I’m not as strong as you think I am,” she mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest again. 

He blinked, not sure what had changed in her. But he shifted to give her her space. After a few moments of silence, he made a decision of his own. “Close your eyes again,” he told her. She gave him a look, her nervousness etched into her face. “I know, I know, you probably don’t want to play anymore games right now, but… trust me?” 

It was poised to her like a question. And Alya thought maybe she might have to weigh it very carefully, but she didn’t. She did trust Lance. But she couldn’t bring herself to say that yet, so she just closed her eyes wordlessly. “Hold out your hand…” he gave more instruction that she followed. After a sound like his coat rustling a bit, Lance finally set something small and heavy in her hand. “Go ahead and open them. You earned it.” 

She did, and looked down at the object he’d given her. It was smallish and round… and gold. She smiled, turning the object in between her two hands. “It’s beautiful,” she said, smiling at him. “What is it?” 

Lance was returning her smile with his own. “Don’t know,” he answered. “Some kind of music box. Altean, if Shiro’s judgement is to be believed. But… it’s broken.” His face fell a bit as he said the last part. 

“Broken?” 

“Yeah, I can’t get it to open.” 

Alya looked at the music box again, turning it over slowly in her hands as she did. It was covered in ornately painted pink flowers. And despite the apparent age to it, the gold still sparkled, even in the low lighting. She’d seen these flowers somewhere before… 

After a moment or two, Alya reached into her shirt and tugged on the thin necklace around her neck. The thin flower pendant dangled before her, like the answer to a question she didn’t know she was asking. After a moment or two of searching, she found a small spot where the pendant fit in perfectly, and turned. 

Twinkling music fell on Lance’s ears, and his head snapped over to Alya in shock. “How did you…?” 

He stopped talking when he noticed Alya wasn’t listening to him. She was humming the song to herself, as if she already knew it. She swayed a bit as the song went on, following along perfectly. It was a song Lance had never heard before. 

The song slowed after a bit, the music box having spun to the end. As it did, Alya found herself singing the last bit of the lullaby out loud. Once it was done, she closed the music box again, holding it close to her chest. Lance was staring at her, she could feel it. But her mind was suddenly racing, and she felt like her heart was pounding with excitement. 

Somehow, that song had been familiar. Like she knew it, and it was some memory she’d forgotten. “We need to leave the empire,” she said, slowly looking up at Lance. “And we need to hurry, they’re cancelling trains every day!” She reached into her pocket, pulling out a small thin pouch and handing it over to him. “This is everything I have.” 

Lance was shocked at her sudden mood shift again, to say the least. “Okay, but how?” he asked. “Even with this, we still don’t have enough! We’ve counted! We need more time!” 

“We don’t _ have _ time, Lance!” she burst, a mix of panic and frustration coursing through her veins. “You said you had three tickets! I trusted you!” His jaw clicked shut, and for a moment, he almost looked ashamed of himself. Alya stared at him, feeling a pang of guilt. In that moment, she decided she needed to trust him again. Even if it was hard. “Now, you need to close your eyes…” 

“What for?” he asked, his voice low and hurt. 

“Do you trust me or not?” 

There was a poignant pause when they locked eyes again. But after a moment, Lance nodded and closed them, holding out his hand for her. 

Alya pocketed the music box, and reached down into the front of her shirt. She had one more thing attached to that necklace after all these years. After a moment to open the clasp and slide the secret, second pendant off, she let the chain drape back down over her neck. The small object glittered in her hand, refracting the light. 

She couldn’t believe she was really doing this… 

With a deep breath for strength, Alya reached out and placed it into Lance’s hand. “Open them!” She said quickly, before she could think twice about it or take it back. 

Lance opened his eyes to look down at what she’d placed in the palm of his hand. It was big… bigger than any he’d seen before. “Is that a diamond?” he breathed, feeling his heart go up into his throat. In his hand, he held more money than he had ever _ known. _

Alya spoke quickly, and quietly, for fear that someone would overhear, even though they were the only two people on this bridge. “At the hospital where they treated me, the nurse said she found it sewn into my clothes!” she was trembling. “She saved it for me… for the day I’d go. Kept it safe...

“Before I left she said to me ‘don’t show it to a soul, Alya. Not until you have to. Keep it secret.’” Lance looked over at her, bewildered. But when they locked eyes, he could feel how serious Alya was… and what this jewel probably was. Her eyes were pleading with him not to betray her. “I had to find someone I trusted with it…” 

“You’ve had this the whole time and you didn’t say anything?” he asked. 

“I couldn’t! For all I knew, you’d take it and go! That’s the only thing I have!” 

Lance scoffed like he could hardly believe what was happening. “The _ whole time?! _How do you know I won’t take it now and you’ll never see me again?” 

“I don’t think you will…” Alya said, her voice cracking a bit. Her eyes were stinging with the threat of tears again. She didn’t like it. 

Lance stared at her, still amazed that she’d managed to keep something like this a secret the whole time. This diamond was large enough to have set her up for life. “We’re getting those train tickets, Alya…” he smiled at her, relief finally settling into him.

Alya’s face split into a grin and she let out a let laughed in her own relief. And the tears were openly flowing down her cheeks now. Lance wrapped his arms around her, lifting her into the air and twirling her. “We’re going to Oriande the _ whole way _ on a train!” he delighted, setting her on her feet again. “We’re going to stay in a fine hotel, and wine and dine!” He suddenly gasped, a new thought popping into his head. “I’m going to take a bath in a tub that has warm water _ and _doesn’t leak!” 

“Good, you need one!” Alya laughed, wiping the tears from her eyes. 

“Hey!” he laughed, grabbing her in a hug again. She laughed, trying to push him off of her, but his grip was tight. “Come on! First thing tomorrow morning, Alya! You’ll never have to sweep a street again!” 


	6. Jump

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alya, Lance and Shiro finally board a train out of the empire. At first, everything seems to be going smoothly. But nothing's ever that simple

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya everyone! I just wanted to take a moment before we begin the chapter to point out that I did up the audience rating for this fic to Teen and up. I realized recently that as I was writing a few of the later chapters, and even parts of this one, that it's not as "general audience" as I'd originally imagined. So just be aware of that if you think it might be something that effects you!
> 
> CW: Guns, Implied/Referenced Violence

For the second time in several weeks, Alya was standing bundled up in a train station, listening to the sound of train whistles, and surrounded by people she didn’t know. Except this time, she had two friends standing with her… and she was standing on the platform for the train, itself. 

By the time they’d gotten back Lance and Shiro’s place that night, Shiro was nearly panicked, and had told them that the theatre had been raided by Galra soldiers that evening, looking for them. They couldn’t even go back there and get the things they’d left behind, because their mess from their ‘lessons’ had all been discovered, and now it was crawling with Galra soldiers. And surely in six months the building would be stripped of its grandeur, the paintings burned, and turned into something that benefitted the empire. 

But none of that mattered, because what mattered was the fact that before long, the Galra would be coming after Lance and Shiro themselves. And Alya, too. So, they had split up. Shiro went for Lance to get the paperwork for Alya with the money the three had on them. Alya went to go get her remaining wages from the week (“Every note counts!”). And Lance had gone into the city to fence the diamond. Alya hadn’t bothered to try and ask him where he would find had someone with the money for such a jewel. She’d heard enough from him that night. 

And then, come sunrise, they had met up back at the train station, and purchased the tickets. It had all happened so fast that they hadn’t even had time to prepare, or sleep. Between the three of them, they had one suitcase, which belonged to Shiro, and was holding all of their things. “It’s the first train of the morning,” Shiro informed them in a hushed tone as he handed them their papers and tickets. “Which means it’s mostly going to be filled with people like us. Aristocrats, artists, scholars… everyone the Galra’s after, or wants to be rid of. We’re travelling as members of the Arusian Ballet--they’ve taken Oriande by storm, I hear. Make sure you memorize your names and information enough so that if anyone asks you, you won’t hesitate.” 

Alya nodded, taking her identification and began to read it, swallowing the lump that was forming in her throat. Whenever there was silence on the platform, she could swear that her heart pounding in her chest was audible for everyone. Would the Galra really come search for them here this quickly? She was sure that they could. And she wasn’t about to celebrate their getaway until they’d  _ actually  _ made it across the border. 

She went over the information she was reading three… four… five times, trying to use her memorization as a distraction for her raw nerves. Everytime she thought back to the day before, she just remembered Lotor’s face when she’d tried to leave his office. Maybe he’d be kind and give them a head start? Or maybe when they found the theatre empty, he’d believe that she’d just heeded his warning, and stopped it. 

Somehow she doubted all of that. She took a breath, beginning to read her new fake name for a sixth time, when suddenly another man on the platform was grabbing her hand. She shot up straight, turning to face him with a startled gasp, expecting it to be one of the soldiers who’d brought her to Lotor the morning before.

But the man who’d grabbed her, instead, was down on one knee next to her, staring up at her with wondrous eyes. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man, and appeared to be older than Shiro was. His clothes were more fine than theirs were, and clearly he appeared to be someone important. Before Alya knew what to say, the man was leaning forward to place a kiss on Alya’s hand. “I pledge myself to your service,” he said as she looked back up to Alya, his tone serious. 

There was a long silence between the two, and for a moment no one knew what to say. It was then that Alya realized that the entire platform had fallen silent… and that everyone had turned and was staring at the two of them. 

The man seemed to realize it at the same time and quickly stood up, brushing himself off and straightening out his coat. As he looked Alya in the eyes one more time, a smile appeared on his face, and nodded to her. Then, he side-stepped Alya, and continued on his way down the platform as if nothing had happened. 

Alya watched the man go, until she saw him sit down on a bench a ways away from them. Everyone on the platform was slowly murmuring to themselves, moving on with their days after the strange spectacle. “Are you okay?” Lance asked, moving closer to put a hand on her shoulder. Concern was etched into his features. 

When she nodded, Shiro moved to her other side, also peering after the man who’d just accosted her. “I recognize him,” he said, squinting his eyes a bit as he tried to remember. “That’s General Ulaz.” When Alya looked up at him with blank confusion, clearly not recognizing the name, he continued. “He was a scientist who worked for the crown… but he was Galra soldier, too, until the revolution. Not just an intellectual, but a traitor to the empire… He’d be a dead man for either one of those things, alone.” 

As the three of them stood there, Ulaz looked over and locked eyes with Alya once more. He’d said that he pledged his service to her. Did he think that  _ she  _ was royalty? Before she had time to bring it up to Shiro, the train whistle blew again, and an announcer’s voice echoed on the platform to announce that their train was about to start boarding. 

When the announcement ended, Alya expected the people around them to rush to board first. If this train really was full of the types of people Shiro said it was, then she’d imagined they’d all be eager to get going. But instead, no one moved. 

“We should go…” Lance said softly to the others. But he wasn’t moving either. 

No, instead everyone was stopping and taking in their surroundings. Whether it was looking out one of the windows at the far end of the platform, or taking a moment to put a hand to whatever was nearest… everyone was just taking their last breath of Altea City. One woman pulled a small rock out of her pocket, and pressed it to her lips, her eyes slipping closed. 

And that’s when the heaviness really sunk in for Alya. If this train was full of people like them, then that meant everyone here must have lived their entire lives in Altea. And now, because of the Galra, they had to leave. Possibly to never return. Because leaving, in a way, meant that they were all giving up on Altea ever coming back. It truly was gone. 

Sure, maybe they were all leaving for bigger and better things, but it was still truly bittersweet. And it was hard for Alya to move when that reality settled over her, too. If the three of them crossed the border now, everything would be different for the rest of their lives. None of them would be able to come back. The theatre, and their memories there, would all truly be a piece of the past. What if they were wrong, and the answers she was looking for were here, all along? Then she would have abandoned all that for nothing. Alya hadn’t had a  _ real  _ past before. Not one that she felt such an emotional weight for… 

This place had become a home for Alya, with these two, who always knew it as their homes. Lance would never see the city from his favorite spot on the bridge again--the one he’d been coming two since he was a child. Shiro would never look at a building, or a painting, and tell Alya it’s entire history with that twinkle in his eye again. And sure, there were bad memories to be had there, too. But everything had those. This was an ending, as much as it was a beginning. They would be total strangers in this new place they were going. That was the cost for their freedom. 

So no one moved, and everyone stood there and said their goodbyes. 

Soon enough, the train whistled again, and then everyone slowly began to filter towards the cabin doors. “Come on, Alya,” Lance said in a soft voice, tugging on her arm. She jumped, looking up at him. She wasn’t sure how long they’d stood there for. “We have to go.” He gave her an encouraging smile that didn’t reach his eyes, and wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb. Alya hadn’t even realized she’d been crying. 

Not too much longer later, they were well on their way, with Altea City just a small outcropping of buildings far, far behind them. It was crowded in the passenger cars of the train, a fact which didn’t seem to please Shiro to much. The last time Shiro had been on any train, he’d been a member of court and was used to a certain level of comfort. But Lance and Alya weren’t too fussed, and Shiro wasn’t one to complain. 

“Sit up,” Lance sighed to Alya as he sat down next to her. They were in the second passenger car, and had managed to find a space where there wouldn’t be any other strangers sitting with them. “Princesses don’t slouch like that.” Alya glared at him, scooting down even further in the seat and crossing her arms over her chest. “Oh. Great. Perfect.” 

“You don’t get to tell me what princesses do or don’t do,” she replied. They both were at the point of sleep deprivation that they’d started to get a bit cranky, and had decided it was easiest to turn it on each other. “You said it yourself, Shiro’s the one who knows what they do.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve made it my business to know,” Lance said with a stiff smile at her. When Alya clearly didn’t appreciate his reply, he shook his head. “Look, I’m just trying to help, all right?” 

She examined him for a minute, as if trying to decide if she accepted that excuse, or not, because it certainly wasn’t an apology for being rude. She sat up straight, taking a deep breath in through her nose. “Do you really think I’m royalty, Lance?” 

The grin he gave her this time was his typical charming, smug one. “You know I do, princess.” 

“Then stop bossing me around,” she huffed with a pointed glare. And with that, she plopped herself right back into the same slouching position she’d been in a minute ago, leaving Lance sitting there with his jaw hanging open. 

Shiro snorted, shaking his head at the two. “I really should start keeping a scoreboard of you two,” he remarked. In fact, he already had one going on the inside cover of his book, but he didn’t have a pen here with him on the train. He’d have to remember to update it later. 

“Yeah, please,” Lance scoffed. “Maybe then I’ll be able to keep track of whether or not we’re friends today.” 

“We’re friends, Lance,” Alya rolled her eyes. “Or we will be as soon as you apologize.” 

“Apologize?” Lance jumped up, turning to her. “For what?” 

“You were rude!” she said simply. 

“I told you, I was just trying to hel--”

“Okay, you know what?” Alya sighed. “Just please don’t talk anymore. It’s only going to upset me more, and I’m exhausted as it is.”

He stared at for a minute, not sure if she was serious or not. “All right, fine. I’ll be quiet. I’ll be quiet, if you’re quiet!” 

“Fine, I’ll be quiet!” she shrugged, looking at the shrinking Altea City out the window. 

“Fine!” 

“Fine.” 

“Fine!” 

“Fine!” 

And they were quiet, for a time, which was a godsend to Shiro. It was like sitting with two children when he was stuck with them for an extended amount of time. And they’d seemed to be getting along so well just the night before, he’d begun to think maybe they’d gotten over themselves. But here they were, acting like cranky children. “Do you think you’re going to miss it?” Alya eventually asked, looking over at Shiro across from her. But he didn’t even get a chance to answer. 

“Miss what? Your talking?” Lance asked, still practically pouting. 

“No!” Alya rolled her eyes. “Altea!” 

There was a tense pause before Lance answered with a shake of his head. “Nope.” 

“But all that stuff you told me last night,” Alya began softly. She was confused, and hadn’t expected that to be Lance’s answer. 

“It’s in the past now, isn’t it?” Lance asked her with a shrug. 

They locked eyes for a moment and she nodded, thinking she understood what he was trying to say. If he lingered on it long enough to miss it, it would be too hard to leave. It was how Alya had felt on the platform at the station. She decided to shift the conversation a little bit. “So you’re going to live in Oriande and make that your real home?” she asked. 

But Lance just snickered with a shake of his head. “No, I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he replied. “What is it with you and homes?”

Alya gaped at him, dumbfounded. “Shiro, I can’t deal with him,  _ you  _ talk to him!” she huffed, crossing her arms defensively over her chest. 

“Lance, leave her alone,” Shiro said, tiredly. He was barely looking up at them over the small book he was reading. 

“Leave  _ her  _ alone?” Lance repeated. And he was the one gaping now. “She started it!” 

“You two really need to stop,” Shiro sighed, finally looking up at them. “Enough with this tense, ‘unspoken attraction’ act.” 

“Attraction?!” the two of them repeated in nearly equal shrieks. 

“Have you lost your mind?!” Lance continued. 

“Okay, okay!” Shiro said in a soft voice, lifting both of his hands up in his own defense. “Nevermind! Sorry I said it!” He sighed, and closed the book to set it down on his lap. “Maybe we’d all be better off not talking about Altea, hmm? I should probably tell you what to expect when we get to Oriande, anyways, huh?” 

“Yes!” Alya huffed, sitting up, grateful for him to try and direct the conversation, instead of her. Apparently she wasn’t doing them much good. “Please!” 

Shiro nodded. “In Oriande, your first big challenge will be talking to the Royal Advisor, and the princess’ former caretaker,” Shiro explained in a low voice, so that the nearby people couldn’t hear it. “His name is Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe.” 

Lance snorted. “That’s more names than the royal family members have,” he pointed out. 

“Yes, well, we’re all pretty sure Coran gave himself most of them. He’s a character. But he and Baron Kogane are the two closest surviving members of the court, and Coran still works in the service of the surviving royalty. No one gets access to the surviving members of the crown without his approval.” 

“Baron Kogane?” Alya repeated. The name sounded familiar, like Shiro had mentioned it once before in her lessons. “He was betrothed to one of the princesses, right?” 

Shiro’s lips turned up in a curious grin. “Yes, he was,” he answered, shortly. “Baron Keith Kogane inherited the title when his father unexpectedly died when he was young. He was later betrothed to Princess Luka, the second oldest. But he wasn’t too thrilled with that, so I wouldn’t exactly bring it up to him.” 

Alya couldn’t help but feeling like she’d asked a question she wasn’t supposed to ask, and cast a look over to where Lance was sitting across from her. He was too busy flashing a smirk at Shiro, like he found something to be way too funny. “You see, this is exactly what I mean, Shiro,” he teased. “You spent all that time back in Altea City teasing me about how Alya didn’t like me or trust me, but look who’s withholding information now!” 

“Shut it, Lance,” Shiro said, flatly. 

“Withholding what information?” Alya asked, not liking that there was something going on that she didn’t know about. She was trusting her entire life with these two, now. There was no room for dishonesty or half-truths anymore. 

“Count Shirogane here was also courting a princess. The oldest. Princess Hira.” 

“Okay, Lance,” Shiro put a hand up, trying to stop him from continuing. “Yes. I was. And I also don’t particularly like talking about that.” 

“You were?” Alya gasped, her mouth hanging open. She’d known that Shiro had managed to work his way into the good graces of the royals, but she had no idea he’d gotten that close. If he’d gotten engaged to Hira… “Shiro, that could have made you king one day!” 

“Well, it didn’t, did it?” Shiro asked, looking out the window to his left. “But that was how monarchy worked. If it made sense, politically, for you to court someone, you had no say. Baron Kogane was younger than Hira, and I was around her age. So that’s just what made sense.” 

Lance looked very pleased with himself at getting Shiro to admit to that part of the story. There was a bit more to it, but he wouldn’t get into that now. Alya would find out soon enough. He’d tortured Shiro enough for one day. 

Alya shook her head, her mouth still agape from her surprise that Shiro hadn’t told her sooner. “Well, Shiro, if you ask me, you would have made fine arm candy for the future ruler of Altea,” she teased, standing up. 

Shiro snickered, shaking his head. “Where are you going?” he asked. 

“I need to keep working on this,” she answered, lifting up the notebook in which she’d been keeping everything she needed to know. “And I want to make sure I’m watching as we leave the empire far, far behind us!” It wasn’t really a lie, she  _ did _ need to work on it. But the truth was, hearing Shiro and Lance talk more and more about the people she’d be meeting in Oriande made all way too real. And it was making her nervous. So, with that, she turned and headed down to the next cart, which was a bit quieter, and she was able to find a seat next to a window. This looked like as good a spot as any to panic and wonder why she agreed to this.

Once she was gone, Lance and Shiro locked eyes, and Lance couldn’t help the grin that broke out on his face. “So Keith’s in Oriande, huh?” he asked, suppressing his giggles. “You think he’ll be happy to see you?” 

Shiro sighed, shaking his head. He regretted the day he’d ever told Lance the truth about him and Keith. But he was so used to keeping it a secret after all this time, and old habits died hard. Soon they’d be in Oriande, and he could tell everyone. Which is all Keith had ever wanted from Shiro, anyways. Well… that, and a couple other things. “Oh, I think he’s missed me,” Shiro said, feeling a wry smile spread over his own face. 

Lance laughed, shaking his head. “But what about you, Lance?” Shiro asked. “What do you want in Oriande, of all places?” After all, they all knew why Shiro had to leave the empire. And Alya, too--in fact, each day it became more apparent to Shiro just how dire it was that they get Alya out. 

“I just want the reward,” Lance said with a shrug of his shoulders, like it was that simple. “Oriande means freedom for the two of you, but I’m thinking of this more as a… business opportunity. If they buy Alya, then the reward is ours, and it’ll be the most comfortable living I have ever experienced!” 

Shiro hummed softly, nodding. “And nothing else?” he asked. 

“What else is there?” Lance replied, stretching out to put his feet up on the now empty spot next to Shiro, and use it as a footrest. From the corner of his eye, he could see a young woman cast him a glance and wrinkle her nose at his manners. But he just flashed her his most charming smile and wink, before turning back to Shiro.

“Well, there’s Alya.”

“Yeah, what about her?” Lance asked, raising an eyebrow. Shiro had been watching them curiously ever since they’d gotten back the night before, and Lance was starting to get a little annoyed at it. 

Shiro looked Lance up and down, considering if he really wanted to question Lance further about it. He had his suspicions, but Lance was pretty set on this reward. After a moment, he decided on what it was he actually wanted to ask him. “What if they don’t accept her and you don’t get your reward?” 

Lance shrugged again, looking thoroughly nonplussed. “Then we’ll go from there,” he replied. It was like Alya had said to him the first day they’d met; he could make money pretty much anywhere he went. He’d figure it out. 

“Okay,” Shiro murmured, nodding. He looked back out the window again, watching the countryside pass by. The sky was a crisp blue, and there were trees everywhere. It was cold, and the trees had already lost their leaves, but it was still better than the stagnant, polluted air back in the city. “It’s a lovely day out.” 

“Yeah, beautiful day for an illegal getaway,” Lance remarked in a low voice, snickering. 

Shiro smiled, chuckling at his friend. “Yeah, we’re probably nearly out by now,” he agreed. They couldn’t be too far from the edge of the empire by now. They’d be safe by lunchtime, and then it was smooth sailing until they got to Oriande. 

“Yeah, well, you and Alya can watch the rest of the Galra Empire go by, but I’m probably going to get motion sickness if I do that,” Lance said, scooting himself down until he found a comfy enough position. The three of them hadn’t slept all night, and the way the train was rocking was making it start to hit him. “I’m taking a nap. Wake me up when we reach the border.” 

Shiro laughed and wiggled out of his own coat, offering it to Lance to use as a pillow, which he gratefully accepted, stuffing it between his head and the back of the seat and letting his eyes slip closed. 

The next thing Lance knew, he was falling off of the seat as the train came to a grinding halt. “Shiro!” Alya’s voice was a frantic hiss as she tried her best to push past all of the people slowly standing up to try and look out the windows to see what was happening. Lance blinked a few times, trying to process what was happening.

But Shiro was up, and helping pull Alya through the crowd, in no time. “Shiro, they’ve stopped us at the border!” she said, her voice still a panicked whisper. “There are Galra soldiers! They’re boarding the train!” 

“What?” Shiro’s eyebrows knitted together, and he turned to look at Lance, who was still on the ground. “Get up,” he said, offering Lance his hand, which he took. “We need to act natural. They can’t possibly know that we’ve already left Altea City. They wouldn’t have had time!” Even if they’d realized the three of them had left by now, there was no way that they would have had time to get soldiers out to the border to stop them. 

The three of them scrambled to sit, and a moment later the car door burst open, and the rest of the passengers all slowly sat down as well. The soldier who entered first was a tall, large woman. Alya immediately recognized her as one of the soldiers who’d brought her to Lotor the day before, and squeezed closer to Lance, burying her face as far in her notebook as she could without arousing suspicion. Her chat with Lotor felt like so long ago, now, but she was still so scared. 

The soldier paced up and down, peering at the passengers as she did. If she even saw Alya, she didn’t seem to show any sign of recognition. After a few tense minutes, she was joined by a second soldier. Another woman, this one smaller and thinner, and Alya recognized her, too. She was the other soldier from the morning before. “First car’s clear,” she informed the larger one. “Narti and Acxa are moving on to the dining car.” She turned to peer over the passengers as well. After a moment, her eyes seem to settle on the three of them, and she pointed the first soldier towards them. 

The large soldier closed the few paces towards them, moving intimidatingly slow. “Papers?” she asked, holding an expectant hand out. 

Alya couldn’t bring herself to spare more than a glance, feeling paralyzed by her fear. Fortunately, Shiro slowly rose to his feet, taking the lead. “Good day, ladies,” he said, his voice cool and even, like he’d talked a thousand Galra soldiers off his back before. “Is there a problem?” 

“We’re looking for someone leaving the country illegally,” the taller woman explained. 

Shiro smiled, turning to look at Lance, who shared in his lighthearted expression. “Guess they didn’t have the right papers, huh?” Lance asked, snickering, like he was having a normal chat with the soldier. 

“Oh, enough of this,” the smaller one sneered, grabbing Shiro by the collar and shoving him against the wall. “Didn’t have the right papers or didn’t have the right name, General Ulaz?!” 

Shiro’s face paled, and he lifted his hands up innocently. “I assure you, miss, there’s been some mistake. I’m not General--”

BANG!

Alya felt a scream leave her mouth, and she jumped, burying her face in Lance’s shoulder. They’d shot Shiro right in front of her! This couldn’t be happening, not again…!

But a second later, she heard the soldiers footsteps hurrying off and out the back door of the passenger car. And then she heard Shiro’s voice. “I’ll go see what happened…” he murmured. 

Lance grabbed his wrist to stop him. “We  _ know  _ what happened.” A shuddered sob bubbled up from deep inside Anya, and she kept her face buried in Lance’s shoulder as she wept. 

“Calm her down!” Shiro hissed, his voice suddenly more stern and cold than either of them had heard it before. But after a moment of looking at the two of them, his face broke and he squeezed his own eyes shut. “If they see her crying, they’ll know,” he explained, before disappearing into quickly into the crowd of people moving into the dining cart to see what had happened. 

When he was gone, Lance gently reached up to put a hand on Alya’s face as she sat up. “Shh, it’s okay,” he murmured so that no one else could hear them. “You’ll be safe soon, I promise.” 

She wasn’t looking at him, though. She shook her head, her eyes moving about like she was looking for a way to escape. “No, no, that’s what the soldiers said when they took us from the palace,” she mumbled. 

“No, don’t worry, the soldiers went down to the dining car,” he said, tilting his head this way and that as he tried to push his way into Alya’s line of vision. 

“Luka was so scared. ‘They said they were taking us somewhere safe,’ I said to her, ‘they won’t hurt us, father sent soldiers to come save us,’” she continued on, her eyes filling with tears again. “But then suddenly they were pointing their guns at us--”

“Shh!” Lance grabbed her hand, and her eyes snapped to his again. “You need to be quiet! No one is pointing guns at us. Now’s not the time to practice--”

“Lance, if I am really her--” Alya could feel the panic rising up, her breath hitching. For just a brief moment, she truly had thought that they’d killed Shiro in cold blood. And suddenly what they were doing was just that much more real. 

Lance shook his own head, covering her mouth with a single finger and gently shushing her again. “You need to stay calm,” he repeated, choosing his words a bit better this time. “Once we cross that border, you’re safe.”

Alya shoved his hands from her, feeling no better for it. “You put this fantasy in my head, Lance!” she hissed, her temper flaring up. “Don’t get mad at me if I'm starting to think they might be true!” The train had started again, and was slowly moving its way into the forest, towards the border again. She’d be across it soon. 

Suddenly, Shiro had rejoined them, and was scrambling to pick his coat up from where Lance had dropped it on the floor. “We need to get off this train. Right now,” he hissed, practically throwing the coat on. He had a piece of paper folded up in his hand. 

“Wait, what’s going on?” Alya asked. 

“Those other two soldiers? The ones who shot General Ulaz? They boarded with orders to stay on board and arrest two men and a young woman, and bring them back to the Galra Empire!” 

“So?” Lance asked. “That doesn’t mean anything! It could be anyone!” 

Shiro shook his head, and unfolded the paper in his hands, lifting it up for Lance to see. “I don’t think so!” 

Lance’s face paled as he looked at the flyer in Shiro’s hand. It was a state order from Commander Sendak himself, with portraits of the three of them on it. An order for their arrest. “So much for ‘they wouldn’t be able to get soldiers here that fast,’” Lance huffed, shaking his head as he took it out of Shiro’s hands and started ripping it up. They were now trapped on a moving train with four soldiers sent specifically to arrest and possibly kill them. “What are we going to do?!” he asked, feeling himself get panicked for the first time. 

Alya looked at the door to the dining car, which was still flapping open from when Shiro had burst back in. And there wasn’t anyone remaining in this car but them… “We’re getting off,” she ordered, grabbing Shiro’s suitcase from the rack above them. 

Once it was down and in her hands, she headed towards the door, peeking her head out to choose her footholds and where she’d hang on carefully. “Wait! Alya!” She heard Shiro calling after her. “You can’t! The train’s moving again!” 

“You got any better ideas?” she asked him. 

Lance and Shiro exchanged panicked looks. “Well I’m not staying here and ending up like Ulaz,” Lance said decidedly. If it was death from jumping off a moving train, versus death from getting shot by a Galra soldier, the decision was pretty clear to him. 

Shiro groaned, shaking his head, but following the two anyways. Alya gripped the rails along the side of the train, climbing slowly along the side of it. Lance wasn’t far behind her, keeping an eye on retracing where she’d grabbed on and stepped. “Alya, this is crazy!” Shiro yelled, barely able to hear his own voice as the wind whipped past them. 

Lance could start to see people inside the train noticing them and poking their heads out of the car windows. “We’ve got about ten seconds before this whole thing becomes a spectacle!” he yelled after Alya.

She turned, keeping her grip with the one hand that wasn’t holding onto the suitcase. “Well, then! We jump on three!” she yelled back at them. “One…!”

Lance and Shiro exchanged frightened looks. 

“Two…!” 

The ground was whipping past them so fast, now. And a tree branch came dangerously close to slashing Lance’s face. 

“Three!!” 

The three of them let go with matching screams, springing with their feet off the side of the train, trying to get as much distance as they could. For several seconds it felt like they were flying, until gravity had a chance to realize and catch up with them. 

It was by pure luck that the forest was covered in a thick layer of freshly fallen snow. They hit the ground and tumbled down a steep slope, feeling their clothes snagging on branches and thorns as they did. The world felt like it was spinning around them, until finally they landed on flat ground and is stopped as quickly as it had begun. 

Somewhere off to her right, Alya could hear Lance groan. “I hate trains,” he complained, loudly enough for the other two to hear. “Remind me never to get on a train again.” 


	7. Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lotor receives new commands from his higher ups after the debacle on the train. Meanwhile, Alya, Lance and Shiro's journey to Oriande continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! 
> 
> So just a few smaller notes before I start this chapter! First up, Happy Thanksgviing to everyone, if you are american and you celebrate it. Remember above all things to take care of yourself for this holiday, because I know sometimes being around family can suck (woo this whole fic is about family what a good note to start on!), but you're strong and you can get through this! And if you can, RAGE AGAINST YOUR BIGOTED FAMILY MEMBERS! (┛◉Д◉)┛彡┻━┻
> 
> Second off, I won't be updating this fic again until at least after the black friday weekend is past because, lets be honest, its a busy weekend for EVERYONE. But afterwards I will be back and tbh I think this chapter is a great place to pause! =D
> 
> Lastly, if you'll notice, I finally updated the chapter count to reflect how many chapters this fic will actually have! After writing ahead a bit (a LOT) I finally was able to map out the rest of my rubric and figure out ABOUT how many chapters we'll have. So, INCLUDING the original preface, there should 14. If you don't include the preface, it's thirteen. But AO3 counts the preface so... 14. If it changes, I'll be sure to let everyone know. But for now... Enjoy!! <3

“What do you  _ mean _ the train crossed the border without them on it?” Commander Sendak’s voice was a booming growl in Lotor’s ear, over the telephone receiver. “I had it on good authority from officials at that station that they had tickets for that train!” 

Lotor pressed the tips of his index finger and his thumb to the bridge of his nose, clenching his jaw a bit at the old commander on the other end of the line. “A temporary setback, I assure you, commander,” he replied as coolly as he could. “They jumped before they crossed the border, and think they can elude us once they’re over it. My generals will track her down and bring her back here. There’s only so far she can go on foot.” 

Sendak gave enough frustrated growl. “There’s only so far she can go before  _ you _ drag her back, you mean,” he replied. 

Lotor pressed his eyebrows together. Did Commander Sendak just give him orders that he was already following? “I thank you for your vote of confidence, Commander. My father always did speak highly of you.” When Sendak didn’t speak again, Lotor decided to continue. “The girl is running out of time. Soon my generals will--”

“No, not your generals!” Commander Sendak barked. “ _ You! _ ” 

“I-I beg your pardon?” Lotor guffawed. 

“ _ You  _ are to go to Oriande, Lotor, and find the girl,” Sendak said slowly, like he was talking to a child. Because that was all these older Galra officials ever seemed to see Lotor as, a child who was only there because of his father. “If she’s  _ not  _ Princess Allura, capture her, and bring her back here. We’ll make an example of her, yet.” 

Lotor felt like he’d been doused in ice water. Sendak spoke as if he was willing to kill an innocent streetsweeper over a fantasy. A fantasy  _ Lotor, himself  _ had nearly threatened her life over. Maybe he’d get lucky, and she would be a princess, and he wouldn’t have to bring her back her to face execution. “And if she is Allura?” 

“Then, lucky you!” Sendak chuckled. “You get to finish the job, yourself, like a good little boy!” Lotor could swear he felt his heart skip a beat as he clenched a fist. “Make your father proud and finish off the royal family for good.” 

“You mean kill her?” 

“Of course I mean kill her!” Sendak snarled. “It’s easy. You just point the gun and shoot.” Lotor nodded stiffly. He meant for Alya to be killed either way. Execution was the only ‘suitable’ punishment for making the Galra look like fools at their own border. “Bring her back to the Empire… Alive or dead. It’s your choice. Then, once you’ve brought her back, you can  _ keep  _ your position there in the former palace. The telephone, the view.”

Lotor sat up straight, taking his arms off of where he had them resting on his desk, and tucked his free hand neatly in his lap. “I understand, Commander,” he said, shortly. 

“Good,” Sendak retorted. “Don’t make me regret choosing you for General. That’s an order!” And with a decisive click on the other end of the line, the commander had hung up on Lotor. 

In a burst of his own bubbling frustration, Lotor slammed the receiver down on the phone, letting out a yell. He could choose to kill Alya, himself, or lead her back to the Empire to where the Galra were sure to kill her. Damn her. And damn Sendak. Finally taking a deep breath, he picked up the copy of the report from Acxa. 

She jumped off of a moving train to get away from them, and it might have been her last possible lifeline. “‘It’s just innocent fantasies,’” he spat through his teeth, shaking his head. That was what she’d said to him that day. “‘I’m sure even you imagine being someone else.’” Was she really that desperate to be someone else? There was a growing part of him that regretted letting her go with a warning that day. 

Perhaps she really did think she was the princess. It was hard to tell at this point that it truly was all just a fantasy in her head, like she’d claimed. No, it was bordering on open rebellion against the Galra Empire, now. Like a child stomping their foot and refusing to accept a little bit of change, even if it was for the better. 

And he’d let her go with just a warning… He’d tried to help her, and she’d shoved it back in his face by lying to him. If she’d just told him the truth, that she thought she was the princess, he could have--

He stopped himself with a shake of his head. What  _ could  _ he have done? 

With a sigh, he picked up the telephone again, dialing out to request his coat be brought to his office, along with his effects. He’d need a gun, it seemed. It didn’t matter what he could have done, then. He had his orders now: “Princess Allura” was to be brought back alive or dead. The irony struck him. That day, he’d confessed to Alya that he wasn’t sure if he’d have been able to do what his father had done the night they killed the children. And now he was possibly being given the same command, if Alya was even a princess at all. 

But if his father hadn’t done what he had, there wouldn’t even be a Galra Empire at all. So perhaps it was only right that Lotor make sure that nothing harmed their newborn country, even if that sweet little street sweeper was the one who was threatening it. She was only one person… 

But still…

He shook his head again, standing and pacing over to the window, looking down at the theatre on the square. The previous boarded up windows were open to the elements now. So many of the boards had been ripped out in the raid. It would have been a sad sight to see, but he couldn’t allow himself to get emotional over trinkets of the old world. Just like he couldn’t let himself get too emotional over one girl. Even if he had, briefly, felt a connection to her when she’d looked at him. 

And she’d been so scared that day! How was the same woman who’d trembled like a leaf at a car backfiring, also going around jumping off trains? It didn’t make sense to him. She was more strong-willed than he’d ever imagined. And she’d lied right to his face, and he’d willingly believed her, against his own better judgement. 

No, he was just a man, who had his orders to fulfill. He wasn’t her friend, after all. Whatever connection he’d felt with her was probably just another lie! No doubt she’d do it again when he found her. 

There was a soft knock on his door, snapping him from his reverie, and in came a young soldier with his coat and a thin folded bit of paper. The official orders from Sendak had already been wired here. He had no choice but to execute them. He gratefully took the coat from the boy, sliding it over his shoulders, and stuffed the orders into his pocket. 

Then the young soldier removed a small gun from the holster at his hip, and held it out for Lotor. He felt like there was something metal in his stomach as he nodded and pressing his heart to his hand in the Galra salute, before taking it from the boy. 

Once the soldier returned the salute and left, Lotor looked down at the gun in his hand. It was far from the first time he’d handled one, sure… but never with orders to kill someone he’d actually thought he might have cared about before. Someone who’d laughed at his terrible attempts at jokes, and had looked him in the eye as an equal… Even if those eyes had been just hiding the lies she’d told him… 

But still… 

  
  


It had taken several days on foot before the three of them had reached another city and could officially confirm that they’d make it safely over the border. Which meant that they could safely get another means of transport to Oriande. Lance had voted for a boat, and Shiro had been particularly keen on a bus. But ultimately, the money had won out--and the money was, really, Alya’s. And they didn’t have enough to afford more train tickets. Not if Lance wanted that fancy hotel bath, and if they all wanted new clothes, that was. So they bought their way on board a carrier boat as far as it would take them, and then hitchhiked the rest of the way. 

The hitchhiking had been Alya’s idea--and she was good at it! She’d done it the whole way from Arus to Balmera City, she’d happily told them. The people were friendlier in Arus and Balmera City than they had been in the big city. 

They were waiting along the bank of a small river, just a few paces from a dirt road. Their coats were discarded for the time being because it was already so much warmer here than it had been back in the empire, a fact which they were all thankful for. Wherever ‘here’ was, Alya wasn’t exactly sure. But she knew that they were getting closer. She could feel it. They just had to wait for the next car to come by, and hopefully it would pick them up. 

“Tell me about Baron Kogane again,” Alya asked, mentally going over everything Shiro had told her so far about the two men she was going to be tested by. She had the suitcase sat up, and was using it as her own personal seat while the boys laid out in grass next to her.

Shiro looked up at her, his cheeks having turned a light shade of pink. For a moment, Alya wasn’t sure if it was because of the sun on their faces or if he was blushing. He sat up, considering her question. “Well, what do you want to know?” he asked. 

“Anything. What’s he like? I don’t want to say something that will make him dislike me, or it’ll be over before we really started.” 

“Yeah, Shiro,” Lance said from where he laid in between the two. His voice was low and quiet, like he’d been falling asleep. He’d been sore since they’d jumped off the train--even Alya had been laying off of him, because she was convinced that he had broken a rib. “Tell her about  _ Keith. _ ” It was clear, even to Alya, that Lance was still teasing him about something. 

“Okay,  _ Lance, _ ” Shiro shot him a look that he didn’t see, because his eyes were still closed. “Fine. Baron Keith Kogane inherited the title from his late father, and was betrothed to the second eldest sisters--”

“No, Shiro,” Alya chuckled, waving a hand at him. “I know all that. I mean what is he like? You clearly knew him.” She nodded her head pointedly to Lance, referencing what he’d said. That was twice now that Lance had teased Shiro about Keith in front of her. 

“Yeah, he did,” Lance snorted, stretching his arms out up above his head, opening his eyes to watch Shiro, expectantly. 

He sat frozen, with his mouth hanging open for a moment or two, before sighing. “Yeah,” he replied. “I knew him. Keith was one of the least proper royals that I ever met in my time at the palace. He didn’t think of himself as royal, and I honestly don’t think he wanted to be. He was a great fighter--he’d beaten every other man in court in duel before he’d even reached adulthood. Absolutely remarkable with a sword. And an amazing horse rider, too. He liked to race.” 

“Is this a person he’s talking about?” Alya asked, looking down at Lance. “Or an action hero?” Lance just snickered, shaking his head at her. 

“He was always putting himself in danger for others. If he could help someone--anyone--he’d do whatever he could to help them, even to the point of being a bit reckless. I feel bad for the sister that he was betrothed to, though. He made it abundantly clear how he felt about the arranged marriage. He wasn’t exactly thrilled with it, and he had a bit of a temper.” 

“Oh, a temper?” Alya asked, her eyebrows shooting up. “Great, that doesn’t make me nervous at all.” 

“Oh, you’ll be fine,” Shiro waved a hand at her. “Keith’s had a lifetime of learning when and when not to let his temper get the best of him.” 

“But if I can’t prove to him that I am Princess Allura--”

“Then he’ll be kind when he tells you,” Shiro reassured. “But you don’t need to worry about that right now. I’m sure Keith will see what I see in you.”

She looked down at him, pulling a bit of grass from the dirt to expel some of her nervous energy. “Oh? And what is it you see in me?” she asked, curiously. 

He looked over at her, squinting a bit to shield the sun from his eyes. “I see a princess, Alya,” he answered. “You’re engaging, and you’re passionate. I don’t think you realize just how good you are at charming the people that you talk to. And, if I might say, you show a penchant for commanding others as well as any other royal I might have known.” 

Alya could help the small smile that spread over her face. “From bossing Lance around?” she asked, unable to contain the wry comment. 

Shiro laughed, nodding. “From bossing Lance around,” he confirmed. 

“Okay, stop talking about me,” Lance grumbled at the two, turning over again so that he was off of the side that hurt. That just made Shiro and Alya break out into another fit of giggles at him, though. 

They were cut off by the distant rumbling of a motor growing closer to them. Shiro gasped, turning to look over his shoulder at the road. “It’s a truck!” he exclaimed, excitedly. He pushed himself up onto his feet, ready to run over and try to wave the driver down. 

Alya’s grin widened. As much as she’d enjoyed the calm moments like this on the river, she was still eager to keep going. “Lance, wake up,” she turned and reached her hand down with the intention of shaking him awake.

Unfortunately for both of them, Lance had already been woken up by Shiro’s excitement, and was already starting to sit up. So when Alya reached down to press on his shoulder, she instead ended up punching him directly in the nose. “Ah!!” he yelped, hand shooting up to his face. 

“Oh gosh! Oh no, I’m so sorry!” she cupped her hands over her mouth, which was frozen in a shocked little O-shape. 

“Alya! Lance! Come on, he said he can give us a ride!” Shiro’s voice called, having not even noticed what had just happened from where he was. 

“Coming!” Alya yelled back. “Oh Lance, I’m so sorry!” 

“I think you broke my nose!” he complained. 

“Oh, please,” Alya rolled her eyes, standing up. “It’s not broken. If it was, you’d be bleeding!” He was so dramatic sometimes, and she really didn’t want to hold the person in the truck up waiting for them. 

Lance glared at her, pushing himself up onto his feet, anyways. He picked up the small lump of their coats he’d been using as a pillow, and held Alya’s out for her. She accepted, sliding it on. “You’re welcome,” Lance grumbled, going around her over towards where Shiro stood by the truck. 

She found herself rolling her eyes again as he passed. “Men are such babies,” she huffed, quiet enough so that he couldn’t hear her. With a swift scoop, she had the suitcase in her hand, and followed. 

It was an old farm truck, so there wasn’t nearly enough room for them to sit up front. Just two seats and an unfinished bed in the back, which Alya assumed he must have used to haul vegetables. The farmer who was driving the truck had been heading home after selling some such vegetables at market that morning. And fortune of fortunes for them, he had informed them that they were closer to Oriande now than they thought! 

“Now, I’m gonna drop the three of you off up there,” the older gentleman who was driving, informed them. He was pointing up at the top of a hill. “This old girl isn’t too fond of the city streets, and I’ve got to go the other way to get back home. So from there, it’ll be about a two mile walk into Oriande.” 

“No, that’s perfect, thank you!” Alya said, a wide smile plastered over her face. She’d been in a wonderful mood since they’d managed to cross the border. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she truly felt like she was safe. 

Shiro, though, was not very fond out how the dirt road made the truck teeter back and forth. And what was worse, he was sharing the back with Lance, and both of them were being bounced around like toys. So when the old man finally let them off, Shiro immediately thanked the ground for being sturdy as soon as he was out of ear shot. 

From where they were, they couldn’t see the road into the city yet. It was just beautiful trees and hills in sight. “He said the road was that way,” Alya pointed off to the north east as she lugged the suitcase over to where Shiro had landed. “Just two miles and we’re there!” She was eager to see it, in all of its wonder. She needed to know if all of her dreams had been right! 

Lance was looking up at the trees, taking it in. He wasn’t sure why Alya was so excited, or what the big deal was. “It looks just like Altea!” he said, sounding more accusatory than he meant for it to. 

“Oriande looks nothing like the Altea,” Shiro rolled his eyes at Lance as he stood up. He pulled his coat off and draped over the suitcase where Alya had set it down. “And Altea City isn’t the whole world! Open your heart to a little bit of something different, Lance!” 

“I’m going to go give that driver some money,” Alya said, shaking her head at the two of them. “He was very kind to bring us all this way, and I want to give him something in return.” She turned and paced back over to the dirt road to catch him before he left. 

Lance watched after her, still feeling rather unimpressed with the trees, anyways. “Look at her,” he laughed, shaking his head. “She somehow manages to make friends with everyone she meets. No doubt she’ll charm the wits out of Coran, too. We might actually pull this off, after all.” He turned to shoot Shiro a lopsided grin. “You taught her well, man.” Shiro’s face, however, wasn’t as amused as Lance’s was. Instead, he looked a bit sad, like he was considering telling Lance some bit of bad news he had. “What?” Lance asked. “What’s wrong?”

“She’ll break your heart, Lance,” he said, his voice low. 

“What?” Lance asked, laughing him off. 

“If she  _ does  _ charm the wits out of Coran, what are you going to do?” Shiro asked. “Most likely, you’ll never see her again!” 

Lance stared at him for a minute, his expression blank. Then, all at once, he clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. “Shut up,” he said. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Thank you, again!” Alya called to the driver as the old engine roared to life, puffing out small clouds of exhaust. Once he was off on his way again, she excitedly turned back to the other two. As she moved to where they are, she couldn’t help but skip a little bit. She just had a happy spring in her step. “You’ll never guess what he told me! We’re so close, that from the very top of this hill over there, you can just see Oriande!” She pointed them to where the driver had told her. 

Shiro was smiling again at that info, and he quickly turned and ran off to see what she meant. But before Lance could follow after, Alya grabbed his arm to stop him. “We did it!” he was cheering as she got his attention. 

“We did!” she smiled back at him. “Lance, I just… I wanted to say that…” she considered her words and what she wanted to say carefully. “Even though I may have gotten mad at you sometimes, I never doubted that we would make it.” Lance stared at her, his face unreadable for once. And it made Alya a bit nervous, her stomach fluttering with the feeling. “So I just wanted to say… Thank you, Lance.” 

They watched one another for a moment, neither one quite sure what to say next. It was Lance who finally spoke. “You’re the one who really got us here,” was his reply. But before Alya could answer, the two of them could hear Shiro yelling off in the distance. 

“He was right! You really can see it from here!” Shiro’s voice called. “It’s practically sparkling!” 

Lance looked off at where the voice came from, and eagerly ran after it, expecting Alya to follow. But she felt herself freeze on the spot, leaving her alone as he disappeared into the trees. Her heart felt like it was going to pound out of her chest, but not in the same way as it had on the train when the soldiers had boarded. 

“Alya, it’s true!” his voice called after her. He sounded like he was laughing, and happy. “Come see!” It wasn’t long before both of them were calling for her, but she still couldn’t make her feet move.

Part of her really wanted to run, and she wasn’t sure why. Everything she had wanted for the past few years of her life was right over the crest of that hill, and suddenly it felt like the scariest thing she had encountered so far. They were such a long way from home, now, and had seen a lot of it along the way, too. 

Okay, she told herself as she took a deep breath. One step at a time. 

She moved over to grab the suitcase first, feeling herself smile. Just over the crest of that hill, someone was waiting for her, she just knew it. All those years of hoping and dreaming about Oriande couldn’t possibly wrong. And sure, they were a long way from Altea City, but that just meant that this was home now. 

Home… she took another breath, turning towards the trees. She had never known what home felt like until she’d started this journey. She had two friends now, who she somehow had found herself caring for, deeply. Next step was finding her family. She just knew that there must have been a time when she had them. 

Next step… she forced her feet to move again, and step forward. She couldn’t waste her time looking back at where she came from anymore. Sure, she wanted to find her family, and that was a part of her past. But all she could do was keep moving forward. Sure, there were some things her heart longed to know still--answers that she needed. But somehow in her heart she also knew those answers were  _ not  _ back in the Empire. That really was just all better left in the past. And that’s what she just had to keep telling herself. And what she  _ did  _ tell herself as she made her feet move, climbing up the hill, and pressing through the trees. 

Last step… 

When she came out of the brush, she was next to Shiro and Lance again, and the sun was beaming golden light down on her face. Lance had removed his coat, and turned to her with a wide toothy smile. 

Below them, just off in the distance, was a magnificent, large city, like nothing Alya had ever seen before. From up here, the buildings all looked like small precious stones, glittering in the sunlight. Shiro was right, they really did sparkle! Even at this distance, it was clearly nothing like what had become of the empire! The buildings there had all been stone, but they were dark and dusty. Even when it was sunny out, it wasn’t as shiny as this. Halfway through the city, Alya could just make out a river winding through, much like the river Lance had taken her two all that time ago. That made her smile, and she sniffed, not sure when she’d started crying. 

“Princess,” Lance said, draping and arm over her shoulders. “Welcome to Oriande.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _One step at a time,  
One hope, then another,  
Who knows where this road may go  
Back to who I was,  
On to find my future.  
Things my heart still needs to know.  
Yes, let this be a sign!  
Let this road be mine!  
Let it lead me to my past  
And bring me home...  
At last!_


	8. Oriande

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alya, Lance, and Shiro are in finally in the wonderful city that is Oriande! They spend time together enjoying the city in one short, glorious first day and find their dreams may soon all come true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I hope everyone survived Thanksgiving all right! And if you don't celebrate thanksgiving, then I hope you survived the first "official" holiday shopping weekend! It got pretty crazy out there this year, y'all, so I hope that you and yours are all safe and happy! 
> 
> It's been a week since the last update cause of the holidays and because tbh I've been writing the last few chapters of this (I've written way ahead) and OOF ITS HARD FAM. But I'm back on the wagon and I am READY! 
> 
> Enjoy this short, slightly fluffier chapter!! We've finally reached ORIANDE!

Their first order of business, Alya and Shiro had decided quickly, was to get out of these dirty old rags and buy new clothes as soon as possible. And they had a relatively easy time finding a shop with fine dresses and suits, once they’d gotten into the city. Deciding on some suitable clothes to wear was easy for Alya and Shiro. Lance, on the other hand, had been a different story. 

When Shiro had asked him what sizes he wore, Lance hadn’t known. Everything he’d ever worn had been either handed down to him, purchased used in a pawn shop, or lent to him from someone else. What had followed had been at least a full hour of purely trying clothes on Lance until they’d found a few good outfits for their friend. 

Eventually, Shiro had picked out a stunning three piece suit for him, in a deep royal blue. A color which Lance had protested at first, complaining that he’d stain and ruin it in one night. It seemed he was convinced that would be the case of any color, if it wasn’t some variation of the same dingy colors Alya had always seem him in. But after seeing himself in it, he’d changed his tune a little bit. He did look great in it, and he wasn’t sure if it was because they were clothes that actually fit him, or if it was the color. 

He eventually came to the conclusion that it was definitely just the drama and magic of the whole city. Even if Shiro and Alya seemed convinced they’d changed his life forever.

But Lance wasn’t used to clothes this fancy, and tugged a bit on the black necktie’s knot as they were checked out by a salesperson in the store. He had thanked Alya at least four or five times in the time they’d been standing there alone. After all, it was her money from the diamond that had made it even possible for them to have fresh clothes right now. “You can thank me by not yanking on the tie and ruining it,” she’d responded, slapping his hand away from his own throat. 

Once they’d finished up, they left the store and discarded their Galran rags into the first street-side trash can they could see. They were so worn down, it was hardly worth it to try and sell them. And besides, Lance hadn’t seen a single swap shop or second hand booth since they’d arrived in Oriande. Perhaps in this city, it was just commonplace to buy clothes fresh and new every time you went shopping. 

Oriande was nothing like Alya’s dreams had envisioned for her. It was even more fantastic in person! The buildings weren’t made out of gold and white marble, like she’d imagined, but they were gorgeous and colorful all the same. And tall! Alya had seen tall buildings in the empire before, but never this many in such a small space. And so many of them looked as if they were made of glass! Every other building seemed to be some sort of theatre, or gallery, or shop. It was the polar opposite of the city they’d come from. Everyone here had the time and a taste for art, which was something Alya had never experienced in her whole life, as far as she could remember. 

The whole city seemed to be lit as bright as the daytime, even though the sun had long since already set. It was warm, and welcoming. As Alya passed by one painter, he’d even offered her a rose. She’d never been treated so kindly by total strangers before. 

After checking into a nearby hotel, the three had gone out for a real dinner, which had been quite a treat for all of them. It had been so long since they’d eaten anything other than canned beans or plain potatoes. And the restaurant had served them real meat, and wine! Shiro had been so happy for wine--and Alya decided that wine was definitely not her thing. Or, at least, that particular wine. 

There was a live band playing one corner of the restaurant, the music making Alya’s heart swell. She hadn’t heard live music in so long. Before dessert, Lance turned to her, holding a hand out. “Care to dance?” he asked, smiling softly. 

She gladly accepted, taking his hand with a nod. The whole day felt like a dream, she thought to herself as Lance led her up to the dance floor. “Guess it’s a good thing Shiro forced you to learn, too,” Alya chuckled as he wrapped his hand around her waist. 

“Guess so,” Lance smiled back, pulling her in close. He paused, losing himself for a moment as they gazed at each other. When he did speak again, it was quickly. “The dress looks beautiful, by the way.” He nodded his head a bit to point to the light blue piece that she had on. She’d bought it before Shiro had gotten Lance’s suit, and hadn’t intended to match him. But regardless, the waiter had still assumed the wrong idea. 

“Thank you,” she smiled. “You look lovely, as well. The suit fits you nicely.” 

He laughed, shaking his head like he didn’t really believe her. “I mean, that dress looked nice on the hanger, but it looks even better on you. Y-you should wear it.” He let go of her waist, lifting their arms up to spin her. 

“I am wearing it,” she snickered, flaring the skirt out a little and returning to him again. 

His cheeks turned pink and he shook his head. “Sorry,” he said, still speaking quickly. If he was stammering now, too, then he was trying to ignore that part. “I mean, like… more often… I’m sorry! I’m just trying to give you a, uh…” He trailed off, staring at her and drawing a blank. 

“A compliment?” she asked, completing the sentence for him. 

“Yes!” he blinked, nodding. They were silent again for a time, just enjoying the dance together, and Alya wondered if maybe the wine had just gone to Lance’s head. That could have been why he was acting so strangely all of the sudden. He eventually spoke again, though, and he didn’t sound quite so nervous this time. “You won’t have much longer to wait, princess. This city’s your destiny.”

“What?” she laughed, wrinkling her nose a bit. “Destiny. You’re so dramatic, Lance.” 

“Well,” he chuckled. Maybe she was right about him being dramatic. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t spent the whole afternoon with Shiro’s words back on that hill still echoing in his head. She’ll break your heart… “But just think, soon you’ll never have to think about me, or sweeping streets, or dumb galra soldiers ever again. You’ll be moving up in the world.” 

Alya blinked up at him, not sure what to say. Where was Lance going that he thought he wouldn’t be there to see it with her? They were friends after all this, right? He’d said back on the train that he wasn’t sure what he was going to do when they reached Oriande, and he hadn’t said anything more on the matter since. But she’d still assumed that he’d stay there in the city, with Shiro. And with her… “I’m feeling a little dizzy,” she said softly, hearing the music draw to a slow conclusion. 

He hummed, knowingly. “Little light-headed?” 

“Yeah…” she breathed, staring up at him. A small smile appeared. “I think I like it, though.” 

“Me too,” he breathed out a soft laugh. He slid her hand from his shoulder, and held both of her hands between them. “Probably the spinning. Maybe we should stop…” 

“Lance?” 

“Hm?” 

“We have stopped.” 

Oh.  _ Oh.  _ He stared for a moment, surprised over that, and not even remembering that the song had ended. He was still light-headed though… that was weird. “Alya, I um… I have something to tell you…” His heart was thumping in his chest. 

“Yes?” she asked. She seemed closer to him than she had a second ago, and Lance tried to stop himself from glancing down at her lips. He’d never really noticed her lips before… 

“I, um…” his throat felt dry. 

“Excuse me,” another gentleman said, softly, placing a hand on her shoulder and snapping Alya’s attention away from Lance. “May I have this dance?” 

Alya wanted to say no. To demand an apology from the man for interrupting whatever it had been that Lance was about to tell her. If this was Altea, she even might have. But this was Oriande, now, and everyone there had been so kind to her thus far. Plus, she felt like she had an obligation to keep up her appearances until after she met with Baron Kogane and Coran. 

So, instead, she nodded and agreed with a smile. She took the gentleman’s hand, and he led her away as another song was just starting. Lance watched after her go with a ghost of a smile still on his face. He somehow couldn’t bring himself to be annoyed at the man who’d interrupted. There was still time. Little time. But time nonetheless. As he turned back to the table, he tried his best not to notice Shiro giving him a knowing look. 

After dinner, Shiro handed Alya a small, thin book. “For you,” he smiled, proudly. It was the book he’d been reading on the train, she realized as she opened the front cover and found a familiar table, inked in pen, tallying who had one each argument her and Lance had had thus far. Seeing the tally brought a smile to her face, and not  _ just _ because she had won. What it actually was, though, was a small guidebook to different areas around the city in Oriande. “Not very far from here, I think you’ll find a very interesting statue in a park near the river.” 

Alya blinked up at him in confusion, and he pointed to where he had a page marked with a small bit of paper from their shopping trip earlier. She quickly flipped to that page and was greeted by a picture of a tall, white lion statue. The same one from her dreams. “Shiro!” she gasped, smiling wide again. In fact, she wasn’t entirely sure she’d stopped smiling since they’d gotten here. “You found it! Thank you!” She quickly moved to throw her arms around him in a hug, but he stopped her, laughing.

“No need to thank me,” he said as he shook his head. “We’ve got some time to kill, and we’re in a city where it’s actually safe to be out at night! It would be a good time to maybe go and see it.” Alya chuckled and wrapped her arms around him in a grateful hug anyways. This time, he just accepted it. When she let go, she gave the two of her friends an excited smile. 

Lance was practically bouncing on his feet, the excitement bubbling up out of him. “Well, I’d say that we’ve all had a pretty looong day,” he said, stretching his arms out over his head in a show of demonstration. He even added on a tacky, dramatic yawn for good measure. He was slowly starting to back away from them, as if they wouldn’t notice. “I’m beat! Think maybe I’ll go back to the hotel and take a nice long, hot bath!” 

Alya rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. Lance hardly even waited for them to respond before he was turning and dashing off back to their hotel room. “Don’t use up all the hot water!” Shiro called after him, rolling his eyes. When he looked down at Alya again, he shook his head in an amused sort of disbelief. “I’ve never seen him so happy.” 

“We’re all happy,” Alya chuckled, nodding and hugging the book to her chest. She knew for a fact that she was happier than she’d been in a long, long time. And now she could see that Shiro looked as eager to leave as Lance had been. She chuckled. “And where are you off to, then?” she asked.

Shiro’s smile faltered a bit, embarrassed to say it out loud. “I’m going to go find Keith,” he replied, sheepishly. “I asked around a bit, earlier at dinner, and I got the name of some local places that the Alteans frequent. I figured… maybe the sooner we found him, the sooner we--” He was talking quickly by the end of it, as if trying to explain it all away. 

“Shiro!” Alya cut him off, putting a hand on his arm to stop him. She’d figured it out a while ago, when Lance had teased him that day along the river. Besides, it wasn’t like he hadn’t been totally obvious with the way he’d talked about Keith. “I know… You loved him.” 

When she said it out loud like that, Shiro could feel his ears getting all hot from the way he flushed. But he nodded, laughing and feeling a little silly at himself for not just saying it to her sooner. Of course, the fear and all of that could be left behind, now that they’d left the Galra empire. “Well…” he breathed. “I can only hope he hasn’t moved on, or something.” 

Before he turned to go, Alya gently stopped him and reached up to straighten his bowtie. She smiled at him, patting his shoulder. “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to see you,” she told him, trying to reassure him, like all those times he’d done the same for her. 

He laughed, shaking his head at her. “You haven’t met Keith,” he replied It was meant as a joke, but he was still nervous all the same. With one last squeeze to her shoulder, he turned and headed off into the city to start his search. 

That just left Alya standing alone for possible the first real time since she’d met them. She was safe here, that much she knew. But the quiet was definitely strange. By now, she’d gotten sort of used to the two of them constantly jabbering at her about one thing of another. Either Shiro would fill her head with stories and lessons about the old days of the monarchy, or Lance would be finding something to tease her about. But now it was just her and the book in her hands, and a statue somewhere that she’d dreamt of. 

Fortunately for her, the book had some small guide maps to the locations it listed. So she was able to find her way to the park very easily. It was near a bridge, according to the book, and she wandered through the park until she found one such bridge. It was so like the bridge Lance had taken her on, but so different at the same time. It was smaller, and definitely looked like it had been made more recently. But the way the water reflected the lights of Oriande was all too familiar. 

That was when she spotted it. A wide grin broke out over her face and she hurried over towards the statue. It was so much taller than she’d imagined, but just as bright white, and opulent. It was in the center of where several paths in the park connected, and benches circled it, lining the center, like a small wooden fence guarding the city from the lion. Or perhaps guarding the lion from the city. 

She sat on one of the benches, gazing up at it. The Lion was poised up on it’s front paws, like the marble had caught it and froze it in time while it had been leaping down from some great height. She stared and admired it a bit longer before opening back up to the page in the guidebook that Shiro had marked for her. 

_ The White Lion of Oriande _

_ Perhaps the most well known statue in the city of Oriande, the White Lion stands tall as a symbol of peace and safety for all who come to the city. It was erected shortly after Altea was lost in a traitorous rebellion, and many people fled the country in search of a better life. The lion is representative of the family crest of the Altean royal family, as Oriande has become home to many of its members, including the former king, Alfor. The white is representative of the peace we hope they find hear. It is believed by many Alteans that the great, White Lion will choose a worthy leader for them, and that leader will bring them home again.  _

Alya looked up at the Lion, again, staring into its stone eyes. Alfor, the king, was here in Oriande? Her stomach knotted a bit as she mulled over that piece of new information in her head. She wondered, briefly, if the Galra knew about that. How, then, could it be such common knowledge out here that it’s written into guidebooks for the city?

She remembered how Lotor had implored upon her that it was dangerous to dream about being part of the royal family, even if it wasn’t true, and she figured it out a little bit. Even if the Galra did know that Alfor was alive here, they couldn’t do anything about it. The best they could do was silence anyone inside the empire who found out the truth. 

Could… could she be Alfor’s daughter?

She finally pulled her eyes away from the lion’s, and gazed over at the water again. There were so many lights in this city, all of them seemingly reflected on that water. One of those lights could even belong to Alfor, himself, she realized. Or her family! Maybe, she dared to think, they might be one in the same. 

Her and Alfor… her and her  _ family _ might even be sharing this same, beautiful night. 

The White Lion was still watching her, and she couldn’t help but feel like those stone eyes held all the answers she was wanting. It called to her, it felt like. Teasing her with it’s knowledge. They were all wrong, she thought. The lion didn’t represent peace, it represented knowledge. She sighed, and stood up, taking a step towards it again. It was tall, but so was she. Tall enough to touch it, she surmised, slowly reaching a hand up. 

Maybe she shouldn’t touch it, she thought. This statue was precious to a great many people, not just her. She wondered for a moment if Alfor had ever gazed into this statue’s eyes the way she did right now. Did he know everything this lion knew?

With a breath, she reached up again and closed the distance between her hand and the lion’s nose. This city was so full of promise, and everything she learned was another clue. “Thank you,” she whispered to the statue, feeling like she’d already won. 


	9. Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Alfor gives Keith and Coran an order that Keith doesn't agree with. In his frustration, he finds himself in the arms of an unexpected friend that night, until someone from his past miraculously returns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Sorry this chapter took so long to get out--I wanted to take my time with it and make sure it felt perfect before I posted it. I love Keith a lot, and even though he had a small role in this fic, I just wanted to make sure his introduction _felt_ right. 
> 
> Anyways, I won't leave this hanging any longer! There is a pretty big content warning listed below! Enjoy!! It's finally the Sheith chapter!!
> 
> CW: Moderate to heavy alcohol use

Keith Kogane didn’t have too many things left in his life besides a title he didn’t want, and the few people around him who trusted him. But god, sometimes those people just really grated on his every nerve. “Is she gone?” Coran called after Keith, who was standing leaning against the door he’d just shut on a very fine young lady. 

He breathed a heavy sigh, composing himself before the advisor came into the entryway. “Yes, Coran,” he asked, standing himself up straight and picking up the mail off of the table, where the servants had left it. Coran was standing in the foyer, waiting and looking equally as exhausted as Keith felt. “She’s gone, just like every other girl that’s come to see him.” He held the mail out for the advisor. It was one of his many jobs to open it and scan through it, and filter out the things that didn’t have to concern the king. 

Coran took the pile and crossed to sit at the desk on the far wall. “Well, none of those girls were Allura,” he replied with a sigh, crossing his legs in his chair. He flipped through the envelopes before him, pulling out a few as he did so. “My lord, he’s gotten four letters today from  _ new _ girls. Remember when he used to insist upon reading every one of them, himself?” 

Keith rolled his eyes, trying not to remember. It felt bleak to compare the hope Alfor had had a few years ago, with now. “Yeah, well, I’m gonna bring him his supper.” Maybe a change of subject would ease the headache he could feel coming on. He headed back towards the kitchen. When Alfor had heard that another girl had passed Coran’s test, he’d sent all the servants home and cleared the afternoon so that he could speak to her. It had seemed to be going so well for the first hour or so, and then she’d said something or other that had made him upset, and he’d rather quickly thrown the girl out. Another day, another Allura imposter. At least he didn’t get angry with this one.

He gathered a tray with a dinner setting for the king, grateful that Chef Garrett had had enough foresight to prepare dinner and leave it in the oven to warm, before leaving for the afternoon. Keith made a mental note to suggest they give that man a raise. 

When he crossed back through the foyer on his way towards the staircase, Alfor was already downstairs and sat with Coran. “Your majesty!” Keith gasped and bowed his head, unable to properly bow with the dinner tray in his hands. Alfor had gotten older over these past years, but he was still a striking presence in any room. With his dark skin and white hair, he looked as if he had hardly aged a day since the days of Altea. But he was still older now, and had had to start walking with the assistance of a cane, thanks to an old battle injury he’d sustained many years ago. “Please, sit down your majesty.” 

“Oh, save it, Kogane,” Alfor sighed, waving a hand at him. “It’s just us three, now, there’s no need for the formalities.” 

“Yes, your majesty,” he mumbled, setting the tray down on a table near him. Keith wasn’t exactly fond of his status, but he did his best to mind his manners where he could. Alfor was still his king, even if he didn’t have a kingdom anymore. 

“I was just telling his majesty that he only received four letters today,” Coran informed Keith, who had made himself busy with pouring a cup of tea for the king. 

“I apologize for the girl, your majesty,” Keith said, setting the freshly poured cup down with his dinner on the serving tray. “Next time, Coran and I will be sure to ask harder questions, so we can be sure that you don’t have to waste your time with another imposter.” 

Alfor weighed Keith with his eyes, looking unsure. It always made Keith nervous when anyone looked at him that way--because it usually either meant he’d done something wrong, or that they could see past his fake ‘royal’ shell. “No, you don’t have to worry yourself,” Alfor finally said, with a sad sigh. 

“Sire?” Coran asked, turning to look at Alfor with concern written on his face. 

“My heart can’t take anymore disappointments,” he replied to Coran, picking up the tea and sipping at it. “I’m getting far too old, and every day new actresses come here ready to break an old man’s heart, looking for a fortune. I can’t do it anymore.” 

“You’re not saying your giving up,” Keith said. It wasn’t poised like a question, because he refused to let Alfor answer it. Giving up wasn’t an option for Keith, so it couldn’t be an option for him, either. “Let Coran go over those new letters, surely we’ll find the right one.” Admittedly, he might have sounded a little bit more frantic than he would have hoped. 

“No,” Alfor said, more firmly this time. “All those letters say the same things. They talk about how we used to do summers at Melenor’s palace, they say that they remember Allura’s mice… All those girls say, I could read in any book about my family. I won’t do it anymore.” 

“Sir, please,” Keith shook his head, holding his hands up. He kneeled down so that he was in front of Alfor, begging with his eyes for the old king to see reason. “You can’t give up now. There are still members of the court escaping and making their way here from the Galra Empire everyday. I’m sure one of them has found your daughter. And my friend, Count Shirogane--”

“No, Baron Kogane!” Alfor snapped, putting an end to what Keith was saying with a simple order. His jaw clamped shut with an obedient click! “I’ve had enough. Allura doesn’t exist anymore, and neither does your precious count.” 

Keith’s mouth fell open, but no words came out. He understood that the king felt a little more heartbroken every time a girl turned out not to be Allura. He and Coran understood better than anyone--they’d all lost people. But to be so cold… Coran, fortunately, saw the distress on his face and took over, standing up and tucking the letters away behind his back. “There will be more girls, your majesty. More letters. What should we tell them?” 

Alfor sighed, standing and taking his dinner tray off the table to bring it back upstairs with him. “Tell them they’re too late,” he ordered. “No more interviews, no more letters. Allura is dead.” 

“Yes, sir,” they both softly agreed to the command. Keith needed a soft kick from Coran before he snapped out of it enough to speak, thought, which resulted in him agreeing a full five seconds after Coran had. Once they’d complied with the order, Alfor turned and headed back upstairs to his open room, taking his dinner with him. 

“You should know better than to try and push royalty,” Coran gently chided Keith once the king was out of earshot. 

“And what if Allura comes?” Keith asked, unable to hold back the way his eardrums were roaring with his own frustration now that Alfor was gone. He couldn’t take his anger out on the old king, so more often than not, Coran was the recipient of it. It wasn’t right, and Keith knew that, but Coran still never complained. “She’s not dead, she can’t be! If she’s dead, then--”

“Then perhaps your count is dead, too,” Coran said, his voice gone quiet. Like he was sharing a harsh truth with Keith. As far as Coran was concerned, neither the king nor Keith had yet come to terms with reality. But, to Keith, it just wasn’t the truth. It couldn’t be. He couldn’t give up on Shiro--he  _ would never _ give up on Shiro. 

“He’s not,” Keith spat, balling his fists up. How had it come to pass that he had more faith than even Coran? Coran was always the picture of positivity! “He’s going to get out of the empire. And when he does, I’ll find him.” 

Coran sighed, looking down at the letters in his hand as he let them slip into the waste bin at the foot of the desk. It was clear that he agreed with Alfor, just like it had been clear for a while to Keith that Coran had given up on anyone still being alive a long time ago. 

It was pointless to try and argue over it, when all they would end up doing is bringing up each other’s own pain. So, instead, he huffed an angry breath of air, turned and headed back towards the entranceway. “I trust you’ll take care of him tonight, then?” he asked, trying to keep his voice level and not show just how annoyed he felt with both of the old men. 

“Of course I will,” Coran answered, calling after him. “Where are you going?” 

“I’m heading out for the night. I need some fresh air,” Keith answered, pulling his coat on over his shoulders. “And a stiff drink.” Before Coran could ask any more annoying questions, Keith saw himself out the front door, not bothering to shut it quietly. Maybe that part was a bit overdramatic, but he didn’t linger on it too long. Instead, he let his frustration fuel his feet forward. After living for so long in this damn city, he knew his own way well enough. 

  
  
  


“So he’s just giving up?” Pidge asked, sounding dumbfounded. “After everything you all have done to try and find her?” She was making busy work of wiping down glasses so that she could talk to Keith over the bar without her older brother, Matt, bothering her to keep working. 

“Yeah,” Keith huffed, wincing a bit at the god awful taste and burn of the nunvil she’d poured for him. Whenever he’d had a particularly hard day dealing with the royals, he liked to come to this evening club… Actually, whenever he went out at all, it tended to be this club. It was pretty much exclusively frequented by former Alteans, and Matt and Pidge were good to complain to. They were also pretty much the only real friends he had outside of his work. “And the worst part was that they just, like, expected me to just accept that Shiro’s dead, too, all because  _ they  _ think he is and they think the Princess is. Even if the princess is dead, that doesn’t mean shit about Shiro… Just because they’ve given up on Allura, doesn’t mean we need to give up on all of our people.” 

Pidge hummed knowingly, looking down at her glass. “That’s pretty awful,” she agreed. “If it was my family or loved ones, I’d probably feel the same way you do about it. I’d do whatever it took to find them.” 

The corner of Keith’s mouth twitched, and he finished off the last of the nunvil, sliding the glass back across the counter towards her. Pidge took the glass, pulled the bottle out from underneath the counter, and filled it again. “Heads up,” she said, sliding the glass back to him. “Griffin at two o’clock.” 

Keith groaned, rubbing at his eyes and straightening up just in time before the brown-haired man sidled onto the stool next to him. “It’s a nice night out,” James Griffin smiled at him, tapping at the bar so he could order his own drink from Pidge. 

James Griffin was the one thing about coming to this bar that Keith absolutely dreaded, because he always seemed to inconveniently be there at the same time Keith was. Sometimes, Keith and Pidge would joke around that James had memorized Keith’s schedule, and did it on purpose. But it was really Keith’s fault alone that James was always breathing down his neck. He’d made the mistake of leading James on with a string of dates. Ones that Keith had never intended to be full blown dates, and hadn’t even realized they were! Not until he’d run them by Pidge after the fact, and she’d informed him with a hopeless groan. Keith was a lonely guy, what could he say? 

But then once he was in it with James, he was just kind of stuck there, and had to try and let James down nicely. Apparently, though, it hadn’t gotten through his thick skull, and James still thought he had a shot. And so, here he was, shooting his shot again.

“The only thing nice about tonight is that it means one night less,” Keith grumbled, picking up his drink and taking a long sip of it. The last thing he wanted to deal with right now was James. But he still had appearances to keep up, even if he technically wasn’t royalty anymore, so when James just gave him a startled look, Keith quickly backtracked. “It’s a joke, Griffin… I love life.” He said the last part way flatter than he’d meant to, but let it be. Sometimes he forgot that he couldn’t joke like that with people who weren’t Pidge or Matt. 

James let out a forced laugh, clearly unsure on whether or not he believed Keith that it was a joke. But Pidge came over a moment later with his usual drink for him, so he was distracted away from asking about it quickly enough. He eyed Keith over his own drink, sizing him up. “Rough day?” he guessed. 

“What gave it away?” Keith asked flatly, sipping at his nunvil some more. 

“Care to talk about it?” 

“Not to you.” 

“Then how about a dance?” James asked with a smile that would have knocked anyone else off of their feet. Why he always insisted on giving it to Keith was any wonder. 

Keith gave him a sideways look. He was slick, he’d would give him that much. He looked over his shoulder to see if he recognized any faces in the club tonight from old Altea. There were a couple of familiar faces, but no one too important, and mostly only people who wouldn’t care. Without the monarchy, he really had nothing to hide, anyways. Here in Oriande, he was free to do whatever he wanted, and be with whoever he wanted. 

He looked back at James, considering it. Maybe he was wandering dangerously close to bad decision territory, but he’d had a rough day and had some steam to blow off. So, after he’d finished his drink, he found himself actually agreeing to the dance. A move that he figured he’d probably come to regret. 

Maybe if he just didn’t look at James, he could pretend it was someone else that he was in the arms of. But if there was one thing about James, it was that he always just liked to  _ talk.  _ Even while dancing, he was still just jabbering on about his own life, and asking Keith about his day, trying to get him to converse with him. But Keith wasn’t much the ‘conversing’ type. Definitely made it impossible to imagine it that he was anyone else. “Why do you care so much?” Keith finally asked, after having rebuffed the questions several times already. 

“You just seem like you’re somewhere far away today,” James shrugged. “Well, more than normal.” It was meant as a joke, and it was enough to earn something like a smirk from Keith, even though he felt a little bad for the baseline of coldness he constantly directed towards the man. 

“My boss thinks I should move on with my life,” he said, plaintively, keeping his eyes locked somewhere over James’ shoulder. It was vague, but enough to the point, still. He didn’t like openly talking about the fact that he was working in service of the former king, so calling Alfor his boss felt more… modern. 

“What, like getting a new job?” James asked. 

Keith breathed out a small laugh, shaking his head. “No, not quite…” he replied with a sigh. When he looked over at James again, he looked so genuinely concerned that he felt another pang of guilt for not being more straightforward, and for possibly playing games with him again. He sucked in a breath, steadily letting it out again before he spoke. “I lost someone very close to me in the rebellion. And my boss said today that I should give up on him ever coming back.” 

A soft realization spread over James’ face as everything clicked together. He wasn’t a fool, he knew Keith was always so noncommittal with him for a reason. He just had never known the reason before. And everyone who was in this club knew the feeling of having missing loved ones they didn’t want to let go of. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, nodding his head. “I didn’t know.” 

A soft scoff escaped and Keith shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, you couldn’t have,” he replied. It wasn’t like he’d ever told James the truth, or even been fair to him. “If it was safe, I’d have just gone into the Galra Empire myself and found out if he was dead, once and for all, but… My boss won’t allow it. It’s just a good way to get myself killed, according to him.” 

“Well, he’s right about that,” James stated. And part of Keith knew it, too--going back in was a deathwish. But still… “If you want to be left alone after this dance, I understand--”

“Shut up, James,” Keith huffed, rolling his eyes. “Contrary to how it may seem, I don’t want to spend the whole night being sad.” 

“Then how can I help?” James chuckled.

“Do what you do best,” he retorted. “Distract me.” 

James smiled at him and shook his head. It was that same dazzling smile that Keith, admittedly, was pretty lucky to be the recipient of, because a lot of people would have loved to be on the receiving end of that smile. Unfortunately, Keith just wasn’t the right person for it. 

For most of the night, the distraction worked well enough. James prattled on about whatever he wanted, and Keith listened as they danced. Occasionally, he’d chat a little bit, but he felt much more at ease to just listen now. Or maybe that was just the nunvil... It was nice, in a way. In Altea, he could have never had just a simple moment to dance with Shiro. It was Princess Luka, or some other fair lady in waiting. 

Ironically, Keith felt like his own kind of lady in waiting these days. 

Pidge didn’t seem to necessarily approve of Keith’s decision to spend the evening dancing with James, but she also didn’t seem too shocked by it. There was one thing she’d learned working in this club, and that was that the former Altean royals were full of drama, Keith included. And she knew better than to try and talk Keith out of anything by now. But… she also knew to cut Keith off of the straight nunvil before he made any worse decisions. 

It was also pretty common in these sorts of Altean evening clubs for strangers to cut in on dances, so Keith ended up dancing with a few more people than just James that night. Which was good, because it meant that he got small breaks from James every few songs. He’d come to stop really taking too much note of who he was even dancing with when it wasn’t James--they were all vaguely familiar faces of people who he’d never bothered to learn the names of when he actually  _ was _ anybody of status. 

Eventually, during a dance with James, Keith had found himself letting his eyes drift closed as he laid his head against James’ shoulder. It was late by that point, and Keith had been drinking, after all… But it was about that time when they were interrupted by someone who requested to cut in specifically in the middle of their dance. James had quickly obliged, which in and of itself wasn’t too surprising, if annoying. Keith had been comfortable. 

But it was the voice of the person who’d requested to cut in that caught Keith’s attention. “It’s been a long time,” the person said with a soft laugh, letting a hand slide around Keith’s waist. It was a deep, kind voice that he had been able to feel himself forgetting more and more recently. 

Keith pressed his eyebrows together, not wanting to dare to dream that it was the voice of the one person he wanted most. If he looked up and it wasn’t him, he didn’t want to deal with the heartbreak that was likely to follow. 

But the voice spoke again. “You need a haircut, old friend,” it chuckled.

That got him. His face flushed with indignation, and he looked up at the stranger. “Excuse me?” he asked, his voice less harsh than he’d hoped thanks to the nunvil. “How dare--?!” And then he froze.

The man he was dancing with now was taller than him, with a patch of white hair at the front of his head and sharp, square jawline. There was a scar across his nose now, and the last time he’d seen this man, it was just a fresh wound. He blinked, his mouth hanging open. 

...And that feeling of heartbreak didn’t follow. And for just a moment, he wondered to himself just how much he’d had to drink. Too much, maybe. 

But he had that same, warm smile that Keith imagined every night… “Shiro?” he asked, softly. He was almost afraid that by just speaking again, he’d break the illusion and end up looking like a drunken fool to whoever this man actually was. 

The man chuckled at Keith, who still wasn’t entirely sure that he was actually seeing what he was seeing. Especially after everything that had happened that day. But the man nodded at him, and he spoke in that voice, which was coming back to Keith almost as if he had never forgotten it in the first place. “Guess it’s a little bit harder to kill me than the Galra thought.” 

All at once, Keith felt his face get hot and his stomach nearly turn over. He was shaking his head, though he didn’t remember making the conscious decision to shake his head. “Takashi Shirogane?” he asked, still in disbelief. 

“You sound so surprised,” Shiro laughed, gently squeezing Keith’s hand in his. Though he kind of got it; he could hardly believe he was looking at Keith either. He looked so much like how Shiro remembered him, save for a few differences. He was taller, for one, and his hair was  _ definitely _ longer. And he had a scar across his cheek from the siege of the castle, just like Shiro had the one on his nose. 

Keith couldn’t do this. Not here, not in the middle of an evening club dance floor where he’d just had his head on James Griffin’s shoulder. He let go of Shiro’s shoulder with a sudden lurch, and yanked him out the front door by the one hand he still had a grip on. Despite his jacket and waistcoat, the chilly night air was a welcome shock as he unceremoniously dragged Shiro from the club, and shoved him up against the wall outside. 

But before Shiro could protest or ask questions, Keith couldn’t help himself. He grabbed either side of Shiro’s face and pulled him into a long, deep kiss. His head was a swirl of anger and confusion and the built up longing from years of waiting, and he wasn’t able to discern one emotion from the other. And the kiss just made it all the more intense. 

“The fuck took you so long?! I thought they got you, for sure!” Keith hissed when he finally stopped for a second to breathe. Because, sure, he’d hoped Shiro was alive, and he professed it to everyone who would listen. But that had been more about his own stubborn will to not let Shiro go. There had still been a part of him that had slowly given up hope over the years that he’d actually see him again. 

Shiro had a knowing look on his face as he nodded. “They did,” he replied, plaintively. His voice was a little rough after the intensity of that kiss. “But I had help getting out before they could do anything about it. One of the kitchen boys helped me escape. And, more than that, he helped me stay hidden afterwards.” 

“Guess I owe that kitchen boy a lot…” Keith murmured, not sure what else to say. He was still just so dumbfounded by the whole thing. That, and he really just wanted to get his lips on Shiro again.

“You’ll get the chance to thank him later,” Shiro said. “He’s here in Oriande with me. Just don’t call him ‘the kitchen boy’ and you’ll be good.” He laughed at himself, sliding his hands around Keith’s, which were still latched onto his lapel from when he’d pushed Shiro into the wall.

“Noted,” Keith couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up. Giddiness was starting to take over for the anger he’d previously felt. He was just so relieved to see Shiro here with him. Alive! It was like his own tiny miracle. 

Shiro cleared his throat. “Speaking of who I came here with…” he said in a peculiar tone of voice. 

“No,” Keith groaned, burying his face in Shiro’s shoulder. He still  _ smelled _ the same, even after all these years. But he tried not to let himself be distracted by that. “Don’t ruin it.” He knew that tone of voice. It was the voice that meant Shiro had some  _ plan  _ that he wanted Keith to go along with. 

“Keith,” Shiro straightened up, gently lifting his head up with a finger so that he could better lock eyes with him. “There’s a young woman with us that the king needs to meet.” His voice was low and serious as he said it, which was enough to give Keith pause. 

But he immediately knew what Shiro was up too, because of  _ course _ whatever Shiro’s plan was, had something to do with the lost princess. “No,” Keith groaned again, squeezing his eyes shut. “You can’t be serious…” 

“I wish I wasn’t,” Shiro replied, with a sigh. As if he was just as frustrated about this as Keith was. “But--”

“No,” Keith pulled away, shaking his head. Did Shiro really come all this way just to rope Keith into some scheme after all these years? To get rich again by using Alfor? Wasn’t it enough for him just to be reunited? “I’m not doing this, Shiro. I spent most of my life in court wrapped up in one of your awful ‘plans’ and I hated it. You’re not getting me into this again.”

“It’s not a plan, Keith,” Shiro said, sighing. He still held his hands out for Keith, not wanted to be apart again. Not when they were finally together again. But he had to be honest with Keith… “Maybe it was, at first. But it wasn’t mine, it was Lance’s. And it’s not anymore. Not for me, at least.” 

He squinted his eyes at Shiro, trying to get a read on him. Lance had to be the kitchen boy Shiro had mentioned, that much Keith could figure out on his own. “Yeah, well, you said something similar when I agreed to help you work your way into court… All so we could have our own stupid affair, while marrying  _ princesses _ ? How’d that one end up working out, by the way?” 

Shiro sighed, looking away from Keith in his own exasperation. There it was; that hot headed temperament that he  _ usually _ loved. But right now, it was frustrating. Especially when anyone with eyes could tell Keith had been drinking before he’d arrived. “I thought it was a great plan back then,” he huffed. “It’s not my fault there was an entire revolution.” 

The two of them had been much younger when they’d met… And Shiro wasn’t anywhere near eligible to be a suitor for a Baron. Not to mention, Keith was most likely  _ already _ going to be married off to a princess. So Shiro had come up with a plan, albeit probably a foolish one. If he could become a member of the court, then he could be a suitor, too. And then he and Keith could continue their relationship, whether it was public, or in secret. When they’d both ended up betrothed to princesses, he’d thought it was a perfect cover. 

Dishonest, maybe, but it had worked for them at the time. 

Maybe, Shiro briefly worried, the Galra empire had just changed them both too much. But Keith was rubbing at his face, looking up at Shiro like he knew he was going to regret asking any further. He was weak for Shiro, and vice versa, even after all this time. Maybe even  _ especially _ after all this time. “You said it’s not a ‘plan’ for you anymore,” he grumbled through his hands. “What did you mean by that?” 

Shiro grinned, taking Keith’s hands in his again, and pulling them away from his face. “I think…” he measured his words. “You need to meet her and see for yourself.” Keith rolled his eyes, ready to tune out again. “No, listen! Listen! It  _ was _ a crazy scheme at first. Lance and I thought we could get the reward money, but Keith… I really think this girl might be Allura, now.” 

Keith stared at Shiro, searching his face for any sign of deception or insincerity. But the man was just as earnest as ever, which drove him crazy. “You  _ really _ think she’s the princess?” he asked, doubtfully. 

“With all my heart.” 

“Why?” 

Shiro paused. He hadn’t been expecting Keith to question him so much, really. Furthermore, he hadn’t expected to spend this many of their first minutes together on discussing this at such length. He’d been planning on spending them doing… Well. Other activities. But Keith couldn’t just let something go until later. “Why?” he repeated, dumbly. 

“Yeah,” Keith retorted. The anger was back. “Why? If she was the princess, why has it taken her all this time?” 

“Because she doesn’t know who she is, she has this… amnesia.” He thought about it for a minute, and sighed. “But she remembers things, Keith,” he breathed. “Things that she couldn’t possibly know if she wasn’t someone royal. She knew how to curtsy, and waltz without me ever having shown her. She knows about family pets and secrets I never even told her about. If she was faking, don’t you think I, of all people, would know? I’m the biggest fake there is!” 

Keith considered it, still hoping maybe something on Shiro’s face could let him believe that Shiro was being anything less than honest. But he didn’t falter. He never did. “You want me and Coran to interview her,” he said. It wasn’t posed as a question. 

“Yes!” 

“No.” 

“What?” Shiro’s eyes went wide, caught off guard by how immediately Keith had refused. “What do you mean ‘no’?!” 

“I mean we can’t,” Keith shrugged. “You’re too late.” Why couldn’t Shiro have come even a day sooner? It would have been so much easier to convince Alfor not to give up before he’d already made up his mind. Royals were so stubborn, once they decided something, it was final. “The king is so heartbroken, Shiro. All these girls just come begging for the reward. And some of them study, and they fool even Coran… But then they aren’t her, and it  _ kills _ him each time. He literally just told me and Coran that we weren’t to continue, today!” 

“Keith, you have to convince him to see her,” Shiro pleaded. And from the look in his eyes, Keith actually believed him. Shiro really thought that he’d found the missing princess, didn’t he? “She’s been wandering the empire her entire life, looking for some family in Oriande that she can’t remember. She’s brilliant, Keith--” 

“I can’t go against the king’s wishes, Takashi,” Keith sighed, shaking his head. “He gave us an order. No more fake Alluras.” 

“What about the real Allura?” Shiro asked, looking for any in that he could find. 

Keith squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t believe that he was hearing this. The anger was flaring up again. “Did you only come back because of this? Finally found some way to get rich once you got here and came running? Not for me.” Maybe he was being a little bit petty saying things he didn’t  _ really _ believe, but Shiro had been here with him all of five minutes and almost exclusively had talked about this girl. 

“What?” Shiro’s face blanched as he panicked. Keith couldn’t possibly believe that Shiro had only come to use him as a way to trick the king out of a fortune, could he? “Of course not! I came as soon as I could. There was fake papers and a lot of money to take care of. And Lance had to do it all because I couldn’t be found by the Galra! And then we finally left and we had to  _ literally _ jump off of a train, and--”

“What?” Keith interrupted, unable to stop the soft giggle that escaped. Shiro was kind of adorable, scrambling to explain himself so quickly. He supposed they did have plenty of time to discuss it now that he was here, and he was safe… 

“Keith,” Shiro cupped his cheek in hand. “I love you, Keith. Don’t ever doubt that I came for you as soon as I could…” 

Warmth spread from his stomach up to his chest, and seemed to turn his legs to jello. He’d never heard Shiro say those words out loud before. They’d always been too scared, back in the days of the monarchy. He kind of hated how Shiro could do that whole jelly legs thing to him so easily, and how quickly he was able to believe him. “I love you, too…” he found himself saying before he could stop himself. 

Shiro’s face split into a grin. “You do?” he asked. Which was so dumb, because he’d just said it too, and now he was surprised that Keith had said it back. 

“Shut up,” Keith laughed, shoving him away. He wasn’t about to sit there and turn into a sappy mess outside of the evening club. “Come on. We’ve got a lot to catch up on, and my flat isn’t too far from here.” 

“So does that mean you’ll give her a chance?” Shiro asked, hesitantly. “Interview her?”

Keith sighed, tilting his head against the night air. If he wanted the rest of his night with Shiro to be uninterrupted, he needed to give Shiro some kind of answer. “I don’t really have a choice, do I?” he asked. “If she’s the princess?” Shiro beamed again, wrapping his arms around Keith and planting a kiss on his cheek. “I can’t promise anything with Alfor. But I think I can talk Coran into it…” 

“You’ll see, Keith,” Shiro promised. “Allura is alive.” 

Keith turned to face him again, adjusting his bowtie for him, which was still a bit lopsided from how roughly Keith had handled him just a few minutes ago. “You’re alive, Shiro,” he replied simply. “That’s all I care about.” He slid his hand into Shiro’s, truly feeling his smile for the first time in a while. 

A devilish smile spread over his face then, and he playfully tugged at Shiro’s hand, pulling him along behind him again. Shiro stumbled after him with a laugh, feeling light as air. And for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, the two slipped away into the night again. 


	10. Parade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alya interviews with Coran and Keith in hopes that she'll be able to meet Alfor. When she answers their questions in a way Lance doesn't expect, he reveals a time when he was a boy and met the princess himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya everyone! I hope y'all survived the holidays all right and are doing well now that we're in the new decade! I apologize for not getting this chapter up sooner, but it was a busy time for all of us. 
> 
> No content warnings this time! This is a very important chapter to me--this chapter is the same moment as the song from the Broadway musical that inspired this AU in my head. If you want to hear it, I'll leave a link below!

Alya had seen her fair share of fancy places since she’d come to Oriande--the whole city was like a designer dream compared to the grungy remains of Altea City. Their hotel alone was a suite, with a separate room for her to sleep in, away from the boys.Which was unbelievable to her. And it made for a soothingly quiet sleep after all this time dealing with Shiro’s snoring. But it was another thing setting foot into the home of royalty, even if it was former royalty, and that home was just a relatively small flat. 

Keith’s personal style was a far more conservative than any of the palaces that Alya had seen in Altea. He didn’t have very many pictures of anyone, though Alya did eye a photo he had of himself and Shiro when they were younger. The things in his flat were nice, though, and she found herself staring, open-mouthed, as he led her through to a nice dinner table. 

There, sat a tall, thin man with orange hair and an impressive mustache. Keith introduced the man as Coran, the advisor to the king, and one-time caretaker of the princesses, and suddenly Alya felt extremely intimidated. She’d heard his name so many times in Shiro’s lessons, and she felt almost starstruck to meet him in person. But, fortunately, Coran was odd, and that made it easier for her to get over that feeling quickly. He was funny, which helped. 

Keith held a chair out for Alya to sit, with Shiro and Lance standing nearby. They were very clearly not allowed to be a part of the interview, because if they helped her in any way, it wouldn’t look good. They were lucky enough that Keith had somehow convinced Coran to do this interview. It had apparently taken only a small bit of guilting over the whole ‘Shiro is dead’ fiasco with Keith. 

Coran fiddled with his mustache a bit, looking Alya up and down, circling her like a vulture. “Well, you do certainly look like Allura,” he remarked after he’d deemed his examination thorough enough. Her heart jumped for a minute, because that sounded good! Her excitement was quickly quelled, however, when he continued. “But… so did all the other girls!” 

He sat down, and Keith carried over a silver tray with a kettle on it, setting it down next to Coran. “Okay, guess we better get started, then,” Coran muttered, pouring himself a cup of tea. “First things first; where were you born?” he asked, sounding like he’d asked the question ten thousand times. 

“The Hirena Palace,” Alya said, easily. She said it, but she wasn’t sure if it was true. It was just what Shiro had told her about Allura… Which made her feel a bit like she was being dishonest. 

“Good,” Coran said, sipping at his glass. 

“And how do you like your tea?” Keith asked, lifting the kettle up to offer her some. 

Alya sat up straight, smiling a bit. She’d gotten to finally meet Keith the day before, so fortunately at least one of the two people interviewing her was somewhat of a familiar face. “Just cream and a little sugar, thank you,” she smiled politely. 

Keith nodded, and made her a cup, setting it down before her. He wasn’t being quite as vocal as she’d expected. Mostly choosing to just sit back and let Coran take the wheel at asking her their questions. Every so often, he’d look over from the window he was standing at, and ask her one himself. They were both kind as they questioned her; she was just a nervous wreck. 

“Do you remember your governess’ name?” Coran eventually asked, leaning in to really watch her. Alya had never felt so closely examined in her life. 

Alya squinted her eyes a little, trying to remember. She wasn’t sure if Shiro had actually told her the name of the princess’ governess. She knew that the princess had liked to play jokes on the woman, like putting her mice in her teacups… But then, she remembered with a click. “Dayak,” she replied. “She still teaches children in the new Galra empire, I believe.” 

Coran nodded, sipping his tea. He never gave any indication as to whether Alya had answered his questions correctly, or not. And this one was no exception. He was putting on a good front so that she couldn’t read how she was doing from his facial expressions. “Well, I think that’s all I have…” he sighed, setting down his teacup and looking over his shoulder at Keith. “Did you have any more questions, my boy?” 

Keith was tapping his foot, like he was anxious, too. Lance had been watching him the whole time, because Keith, unlike Coran, just seemed to lack the ability to contain his reactions to things. That was most likely the reason why he was facing away from Alya, towards the window. 

“I do,” Keith said, keeping his voice level. He turned back to Alya, examining her. The question he’d thought of was probably the hardest one he’d ever had for any of the girls yet. But… Alfor had wanted him to keep asking harder questions, before he’d given up. He took a step over to the table, sitting down in the chair in between Coran and Alya, leaning towards her so he could watch her. 

“When was the last time you saw your father?” he asked. 

Alya blinked at him, feeling a bit stunned by the question. Had he missed the part where Shiro had told him that she had amnesia? Lance, on the other hand, felt his heart thump in his chest so loudly that he was surprised when the others gave no indication that they’d heard it. He was sure he knew the answer to that… but he’d never thought to even prepare her for that question. They were done for. He turned towards Shiro, leaning against the mantle and covering his face. That was such a good question, of course they’d ask! And he had blown it for them all. God, he was so stupid! 

“I…” Alya said, softly. “He… I got brought over to him during the ball,” she said, not sure where she was pulling this answer from. She wasn’t even sure that she wasn’t just making it all up. “I’d been crying… because he had announced he’d be leaving after the ball. He gave me a present, and… then we were interrupted by this…” She squinted, her mind conjuring up the picture of a small, brown-haired boy in clothes far too big for him. “This servant boy… He knocked over a food tray.” She laughed a little, as she could almost picture the stunned look on the boy’s face, like he’d be in trouble over a small accident. But she shook her head, waving away the image with a hand. “Um… I’m sorry. My father had a count bring him back to the kitchens and he gave me something… A small gift, I think? We just talked, and he made me feel better. But then, my father left before the ball even ended. So that was the last time I spoke to him...” 

Lance was staring at her, and it was a truly terrible time for him not to be able to talk. Because he had a thousand questions for her, all of them more wildly insane than the last. But they all came down to one thing…

How could she have possibly known all that?

Keith kept his face as level as he could, but he was surprised with Alya. It didn’t exactly  _ prove _ anything… Lance  _ could _ have possibly known that and told her, he supposed; he was also a servant in the kitchens at the time. But it was a reach to believe that was what was probable he’d heard about any incident with a food tray and retained it all this time. His eyebrows lifted upwards and he nodded. “That’s all I have,” he said, standing from the seat and moving out of Coran’s way. 

Alya let out a soft breath, feeling a weight lift from her shoulder. Her first challenge was actually over. It was a relief. Keith began collecting the dishes from the tea set, and Coran stood, letting out a breath of air that sounded like he’d been every bit as stressed over the interview as Alya felt. “So?” Shiro eagerly asked as Alya stood up. “How’d she do? Can she meet Alfor?” 

“She answered every question,” Coran said, his voice sounding positive and upbeat again. “I don’t see why she shouldn’t meet him! But… you’ll have a hard time convincing him of that.” 

“What?” Shiro asked, his heart sinking. He knew that Keith had said Alfor had thrown the towel in, but he thought for sure once Coran got on board, that it’d be easy to convince Alfor to see her. 

“I’m sorry, Count Shirogane,” Coran sighed, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know what to tell you. The king will see no one claiming to be Allura. I’m sorry.” He turned, picking up the tray where Keith had left it, heading towards the kitchen. 

Shiro gaped after where Coran had stood, not sure what else to say that could change the advisor’s mind, let alone the king’s! He looked over at Keith, feeling totally defeated. And Alya’s face was one of shock. This couldn’t possibly be how this journey ended. Shiro wouldn’t allow it. 

“Don’t worry,” Keith walked over to Shiro, straightening out his jacket with a coy grin on his face. He leaned in to give Shiro a soft kiss, and smiled over at Alya. “This time I’m the one who has a plan.”

* * *

Alya was sitting in her chair next to three girls much older than her, but who all looked so similar to her. They were all happily chattering, and the eldest girl was sipping a glass of nunvil, her head held high at finally being ‘adult’ enough to drink the terrible concoction. Alya didn’t see what the big deal was. She’d had the sip she’d stolen from her mother. It was disgusting. 

They were waiting for something, and she wasn’t sure how she knew it. But almost as quickly as she realized she was waiting, the door opened and a tall, white haired man walked in, laughing jovially at something his wife had told him moments before. The girls next to Alya had disappeared. 

“Don’t let your sisters know I gave you a present without giving them anything.” The man was suddenly standing right in front of her, his hand clapped down on her shoulder. It hurt. Why was he holding her shoulder so tight. 

She heard a loud bang, like the sound of gunfire, and she quickly turned to try and see the source of it. They couldn’t have shot Shiro, could they? She had to help him! But a small boy stood staring up at her, instead. His eyes were wide with shock, and he slowly bent forward, tilting his head downwards before her. 

“Princess…” 

She turned back toward the man who had a grip on her shoulder, his voice sending a chill down her spine. But the man who gripped her shoulder was different now. His white hair was much longer, and his frame more lithe than the kindly man who’d spoken to her moments ago. “Leave this whole princess business behind you…” Lotor urged her. “Be  _ very  _ careful…” 

His hand was like a vice grip on her shoulder, and she yanked to try and get away from him. Why was he hurting her like this? 

There was another sound like a gunshot, and she shot upwards in her bed with a loud cry for help. 

Once again, someone hand their hands on her shoulders, and she tried to struggle away from them. “NO! Let go of me!” she screeched, kicking out her feet and making contact with the person’s side. 

“Ow! Alya!” Lance’s voice was urgent as he held her. His hands were so much gentler than the ones from moments ago. “Alya, you’re safe! You’re okay!” 

She gasped for fresh air, staring over at him with wide, shocked eyes. She was in her hotel room… Lance standing beside her bed, looking absolutely panicked. “Lance?” she looked around for any sign of Lotor. 

“It’s just me,” he replied softly, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “You were having a nightmare.” 

Alya looked around the room again, confused. Her bedroom was separate from Lance’s. “How did you know?” she asked, pulling her hair out of her face. 

“You were screaming in your sleep,” Lance answered, rubbing her arm up and down. The line in between his eyebrows flattened out, his worry ebbing away as he saw Alya become more aware of her surroundings. 

“I’m sorry,” she breathed, finally feeling like she’d caught her breath. 

“You don’t have to be.” He gave her a half-hearted smile and stood up, turning to leave her room again now that she seemed like she was okay. He’d been like this since Alya’s interview with Coran and Keith; distant and uncharacteristically quiet. When he stood and headed towards the door, he held a hand against his side where Alya had kicked him. His broken rib!

“Oh my god, I hurt you,” Alya gasped, shoving her blankets off and going over to to stop him. “Are you all right? I didn’t break it again, did I?” 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Lance waved a hand, shaking his head. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” He gave her a soft smile, and Alya felt a little better after the way he’d been acting all evening. 

The idea of him going back to his own room and leaving Alya here in the dark made her suddenly uneasy. She tugged his hand back towards her bed, not able to meet his eye. “Please don’t go…” she said, her voice quieter than she’d meant it to be. She didn’t like how it made her sound small and frightened. She was absolutely frightened. But she didn’t want to  _ sound _ like it. 

He looked surprised, but nodded his head. “Yeah, of course,” he agreed, following her back across the room towards the lounger seat that was in front of the window.

“Where did you go this afternoon?” she asked as she sat down, still not letting go of his hand. “You were gone by the time I was done with Coran and Keith…” She felt sort of like maybe she’d done something wrong in the interview, but she didn’t want to outright ask him that. So this was close enough.

Lance smiled, but let out a breath and shook his head. “I just needed to go get some air,” he replied. It wasn’t entirely true; he  _ had  _ needed air, but that wasn’t the only reason he’d stepped out. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something about that, actually…” he murmured, still not entirely sure he even wanted to discuss the interview. But he needed to know. “The last question that they asked you… about the kitchen boy and King Alfor. How did you know that?” he asked. 

Alya blinked at him, not sure how to answer. He seemed so stunned, like she’d somehow known a secret that she’d never been divulged. Which wasn’t possible. She knew it, so one of them  _ had _ to have told her at some point… right? “I don’t know,” she said softly, looking down at their hands. “I just… knew it. You and Shiro must have fit it in somewhere in your lessons.” She chuckled, smiling up at him. 

“Yeah…” Lance breathed, matching her laugh to try and hide his disappointment. He knew that he hadn’t told her… maybe Shiro had, he had been the count Alfor had called to lead him back to the kitchens, after all. “Somewhere.” 

“Can I ask you something, too?” she said softly, feeling every bit as nervous now, as she did when she was about to talk to Keith and Coran. Sure, she could laugh and excuse every time she had some information she wasn’t sure the origin of, but it was happening with increasing frequency these days. And with her nightmares coming back on top of that, she was feeling so unsure of herself. 

“Always,” Lance nodded. 

She looked up at him to meet his eyes. “Who do  _ you _ think I am?” 

Lance blinked, opening his mouth and sighing. “Alya,” he took her free hand in his so that both their hands were connected between them. “I think… If I were Alfor, I would want you to be Allura. I would want Allura to be strong, and smart… and charming… and beautiful.” The last word made him feel a little bit like he’d lost his breath as he said it.

Alya stared at him, feeling something like a tightness in her chest. That didn’t sound like an answer to the specific question she’d asked, but it definitely an answer to  _ something _ . “Is that what you think I am?” she asked. 

He swallowed, his mouth feeling dry all of the sudden. “I do,” he answered. 

“But do you think… Do you think I’m her?” she asked, nervously. 

He looked down at where their hands were still connected and gently squeezed hers before letting go and turning himself so he was facing forward. “I want to,” he said. “I want to believe you’re the little girl I saw when I was a kid…” 

Alya scooted up so that she was next to him again, her eyebrows pressing together. “What?” she asked. He’d never told her that he’d met Allura before. It would make sense, she supposed. He did work in the palace, after all, it only made sense that he’d met the royals. But he hadn’t said anything before about having actually met the missing princess. 

He fidgeted with the drawstring of his pants, letting his foot bounce on the floor to expel the nervous energy he suddenly felt. After a moment, he hesitated a glance over at her again. “I was the kitchen boy,” he murmured to her, softly. When he spoke, he sounded a little bit like a kid. “The one who interrupted Alfor and Allura that night… The one from the story you told them today…”

The pieces fell into place when he said that, and Alya breathed in a breath of relief. He or Shiro definitely must have told her about it at some point, then. “That’s why you left when I said it,” she replied. It must have been hard for him to hear her tell that story. That was the night the castle was sieged, and if Lance was there that night, then it meant… “I didn’t know you were there when they--”

Lance shook his head, lifting a hand to stop her from interrupting him. “But, um…” he continued on with a nervous pause. “I saw Allura once before that, too.” He looked over at her, chewing on his lower lip. It was clear that he didn’t want to talk about that particular night, but another one instead. “I was ten, I think. Altea had won some sort of battle and the King had come home, again. So there was this… parade in the city.

“I’d never seen the city streets  _ so _ busy before,” he chuckled, thinking back on it. “People had come from all over to see the royal family and celebrate Altea. And I was so ready to just do what I do and make money off of it. Steal and sell, it was what I knew. God, there must have been a crowd of thousands on the city square that day… 

“I had made it as far as the train station by the time the parade passed by me, and that was when I saw the royal family in person for the first time. And it was the first time I saw  _ her. _ ”

“Allura,” Alya breathed, hanging on his every word. Even when he’d told her about his childhood that night on the bridge, he hadn’t sounded quite the way he sounded now. Like he held this memory in reverence. 

“Yeah,” he nodded with a soft smile. “She was so poised… proper. Sitting up straight and scolding her older sister for not behaving right, even though she was the youngest. She was so proud… You would think she was already a queen, and her father coming home was her victory, instead of his. The parade stopped for the horses for just one second, and the crowd was cheering so loudly for Alfor, but I couldn’t stop looking at her. I just stood there in that huge crowd of people and stared.

“But, then the horses started moving again, pulling the carriage along with it, and she was going away again. And the crowd just started following behind the parade, celebrating Altea’s victory. And I just…” he lifted a hand up, like he was still reaching out for her, “started running and yelling out her name.

“I must have followed the parade all the way through the city, because the next thing I knew, I was in the city square with an even bigger crowd of people. But I pushed my way up to the front to see her again, just to get one last glimpse… And this man must not have liked that, because I’d pushed his kid or he thought I was going to rush the royal family… I don’t know why. But I ended up out in front of the royal carriage, and was face to face with Allura herself.

“I remember just looking into her eyes for a moment, with her up above me in the carriage, and wishing that maybe she’d see me. Like,  _ really  _ see me… And I reached out to her with my hand, and she just… smiled at me, and for some reason… she laughed.” He grinned over at Alya, still preening over the way this one princess looked at him when he was a boy, and Alya could feel herself smiling with him. 

“The parade kept going after that,” he sighed. “And with the sun in my eyes, I could hardly see them again until they were past the palace gate. Allura didn’t save me from being a street kid that day, or do anything more than show me kindness… But if I were still ten, I’d do the same thing if it meant I could see her again.”

There was a soft prickling feeling in Alya’s eyes as he told the story, and she realized within a moment that it was tears. “God, you make me feel like I was there, too,” she laughed at herself, wiping at her cheeks. 

He laughed as well, feeling only a little bit foolish and maybe a bit vulnerable for telling the story to her. “Maybe you were,” he shrugged. “If you’re really the princess, who knows…” He reached over so that he could squeeze her hand again. “You can even make it part of your story for Alfor, if you want.” 

Alya smiled softly, rolling her eyes. Leave it to Lance to tell her one of the most powerful memories of his childhood and then tell her to use it for her own good. 

But she sat up straight, anyways. Giving him a coy glance, she sat straightforward the way he had done to tell the story. “A parade…” she said, fully ready to tell her own made up version of the story. 

“A parade,” he laughed, nodded. 

“It was a parade for my father and his men returning home from a battle. I was sitting next to my sister as we travelled through Altea City. It was so hot that day, with the bright sun and the clouds, and the people  _ everywhere _ . But there was a boy,” she gave him that coy smile again, which he chuckled at. She tried to imagine what a young version of Lance would look like, all baby-cheeked and in rags. But still with that tousled brown mop of hair and toothy grin. “And you could hardly help but notice him. He was thin, like he hadn’t eaten in days. And dirty, too. And there were royal guards flanking our carriage who tried to stop him, but he just dodged in between them. He was so quick, it was easy for him. Out of everyone in that crowd of thousands, he made sure to make himself seen.” 

Lance was watching Alya tell him her version when she got that look in her eye again. It was one that he’d come to know so very well by this point. The one where she looked like she was seeing something else, very far away from them. Or something from another time. “Then he started calling out my name, and just kept running. Even with the sun, and the heat, and all those people… People who were all there to see my father, but he just wanted to badly to see me. I tried not to smile, it’s not proper according to mother. But I did… 

“I smiled at him, and I couldn’t help but laugh Why would anyone at that parade want to see  _ me? _ ” she breathed, with her own smile to match the tale. But then a curious expression crossed over her face, like she didn’t understand. “And then… he bowed…” 

Lance jerked, jumping from the lounge onto his feet in his shock. “I didn’t tell you that part,” he breathed, his voice weak with shock. 

She could feel her face flush when he said that, snapping her back into the present. He hadn’t told her that part? He hadn’t… “You didn’t have to,” she looked over at him, her eyes widening as she connected the dots. “I  _ remember  _ it.” 

The color had drained from his face, and his eyes were just as wide and shocked as hers. “Y-you… what do you mean, ‘you remember it?’” If this was a joke, it wasn’t a very kind one after everything they’d both been through. 

“The parade,” Alya stood up, grabbing his hands and holding them tightly. “I remember the parade, and the heat, and the crowd… And I remember you! You had teeth missing still, and you were so small!” 

Lance looked and felt as if he were seeing a ghost in front of him right now instead of Alya. He reached up and hesitantly touched her cheek, as if scared that she might disappear from him again at any minute. “And I knew one day we’d meet again,” Alya kept going, her voice rushed with the burst of adrenaline she was feeling. She leaned into his head, wrapping her own around it. “Because we had to, I wanted to meet the silly boy who cared so much about me.” 

“Allura…?” he breathed, finally finding his voice as he leaned in closer to her. He could feel her breath on his lips. 

No… 

Princesses didn’t marry kitchen boys, and they certainly didn’t marry street thieves. He pulled away, straightening up again. Alya watched him in confusion as he pulled his hand from hers and bent down onto one knee. No, that wasn’t right at all, why was he bowing to her like that little boy had that day?

“Your Highness,” he regarded her as he tilted his head forward, silently pledging his service. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Crowd of Thousands](https://youtu.be/x7B1cT0oQFY) from Anastasia (2017, Broadway)
> 
> There may or may not also be a video of the song if you search it in the youtube search bar but you didn't hear that from me. ;)
> 
> I hope I adapted the moment as well in this as it's done on stage!


	11. Lose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything begins to come to a head for Alya, Lance, and Shiro, as Keith devises a way for Alya to meet Alfor. However, an old friend from the Empire has other plans for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy things are about to get tense in this chapter! Hope you all didn't forget about a certain someone coming from the Empire... ;)
> 
> No content warnings this chapter. Enjoy!

Lance stood in an ornate, golden theatre lobby, so much like the one back in the empire, that for a moment he wondered if he’d somehow stepped back in time. There were grand red curtains draped from the ceiling to the floor, and a crystalline chandelier over the grand staircase up to the boxes, where Oriande’s high class sat. In fact, the only thing missing from this theatre was the large portraits of the Altean royals on the walls. That was the only thing that made Lance sure he wasn’t in a dream. 

Shiro and Keith were standing over by the bar when Lance approached them. They’d been inseparable ever since they’d found each other, Shiro opting to stay with Keith at his flat on most nights, than in the hotel room with Lance and Alya. 

Alya…

Lance shook his head, trying not to linger on that thought for too long, or what the events of tonight could mean for her. She was busy checking her coat, which meant Lance had limited time to tell Shiro what had happened the night before. “We need to talk,” he said in a low voice to Shiro once he was close enough to them. “Alone.” 

Keith visibly bristled a bit at that. Mostly because he still didn’t trust Lance. Sure, he’d been the one to rescue Shiro and cross into Oriande with him, but he was also still a con man who’d come up with a harebrained plan to trick the king out of a reward for a missing child. Whether Keith believed Alya was the princess or not was irrelevant, knowing Lance’s original intentions.

Fortunately, Shiro gave him a curious look, but nodded and agreed anyways. He handed his drink off to Keith, and gave him a kiss on the cheek, before following after Lance. “What’s going on?” Shiro asked, worried. “Is something wrong?” 

There was a small alcove with a curtain that Lance saw as he looked for someplace private that they could talk. He grabbed Shiro by the wrist and pulled him into the secluded area, drawing the curtain shut. “What’s going on?” Shiro demanded, having gone from curious concern to full blown anxious by now. 

Lance heaved a sigh, pressing both gloved hands to his face. He swore that they made these tuxedos tight just to purposefully make his anxiety even worse. “It’s Alya,” he started. 

“What? What’s wrong with Alya?” Shiro asked. 

“Nothing!” Lance huffed, shaking his head. He took a deep breath to steady himself. It didn’t do them any good if  _ both _ of them were panicking. “It’s just… Shiro, she’s Allura.” 

“I know,” Shiro laughed, nodding. “She’s amazing. Even I believe she’s her! You did well to tell her the part about you knocking over that serving tray the night the castle was attacked.” 

“No, no, no,” Lance shook his head again. God, Shiro had been a jovial fool ever since he’d come face to face with Keith again. “You don’t understand. I  _ never _ told her about that, Shiro. She came up with that answer on her own.” 

Shiro blinked at him, realization and confusion coming over his face. Sure, Alya had remembered small things that they hadn’t told her before, but most of them were small enough that they could write it off as Alya making educated guesses. Or maybe even assume that the other one had mentioned something about it to her when they weren’t paying attention. But this was an entire conversation, an entire private moment in Allura’s life that very few people had been involved in or knew about… Maybe six people total knew about it, and none of them had told Alya… This was different. 

“And there’s one other thing,” Lance said, softly. “Last night, I got woken up by her screaming in her sleep about the Galra killing her family. And when I finally got her awake, we talked. Shiro, she remembered something I never told  _ anyone _ …”

“What do you mean?” 

“The first time I saw Allura,” Lance took a deep breath to steady himself. He’d never spoken about this to anyone, and now for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, he was about to. “I was ten. I jumped in front of her carriage just to see her… I bowed to her… And she remembered that. I didn’t tell her that I bowed to her… she just… knew it, somehow. She  _ remembered  _ it.” 

Shiro stared at him, taking a moment to absorb everything. “Lance, you know what this means right?” he asked, hesitantly. 

He nodded, the lump forming in his throat again as Shiro finally came around to the astounding conclusion he’d been struggling to accept all day. Somehow, Shiro realizing it the truth, too, just made it more real. Before, even if he thought she had been Allura… it was still a mystery. An almost-fantasy. But now… “She  _ is  _ Allura, Shiro,” he replied. “Even if you might have suspected it before, I think this is proof enough.”

“That means Alya’s found her family,” Shiro’s face broke from its amazement into a wide grin. He was happy for his friend, but there were so many implications that came with there now being a living heir that he had to suddenly think about. “And  _ we  _ actually found the last remaining heir to the Altean throne!  _ You’re  _ actually going to get the reward! And you…” He suddenly stopped, taking in Lance’s facial expression and realization dawning on him. 

He’d told Lance that day on the hill that Alya would break his heart…

“And I’ll disappear from her life forever,” Lance answered as if it was a simple fact that he’d already accepted. 

“But Lance--”

“No,” he put a hand up to stop Shiro. “You said it yourself. She’d break my heart. Princesses don’t marry common street thieves.” He turned to the curtain, pulling it back again, hoping that it would effectively end the discussion. He’d already come to the conclusion on his own that once this was over, he couldn’t stay in Oriande. Shiro had Keith here, and soon enough Alya would have her family. But Lance was the extra in that equation. Just a former servant to the palace who didn’t  _ really  _ have a place among them. 

“Lance,” Shiro huffed, following him. He hated how stubborn Lance could be about things, sometimes. And this was one of those few times when he was being purposefully obtuse. Why had he ever had the bright idea to let Lance and Alya dance together during their lessons? He’d forgotten about romance… Maybe he  _ was _ getting old! “Lance, you have to tell her how you really feel.” 

Lance heaved a sigh, stopping in his tracks and turning back to Shiro. “And what good would that do, huh?” he asked. “I can’t ask her to give up on her dream of having a family for me. It’s just best if I removed myself from the equation.” 

That wasn’t entirely true, and Shiro wanted to point that out to him. Hell, he wanted to point out everything flawed with Lance’s logic right now. The monarchy was gone, and all of the former royals lived almost normal lives in Oriande now. There was no need to get so hung up on court customs from at least a decade ago. Keith and Shiro were proof enough of that fact! But they were close enough now that Shiro could see Alya standing over by Keith. She’d already spotted them, and together, she and Keith were making their way towards them. So instead, Shiro couldn’t say much but a simple command. “Tell her,” he said, pushing Lance around so that he was face to face with Alya. 

“Oh!” she gasped, startled by Shiro pushing Lance towards her like that. “Tell me what?” she asked, laughing lightly.

Lance’s cheeks felt suddenly very hot, and he wasn’t sure if it was the embarrassment from having Shiro demand he confess feelings for Alya, or anger at Shiro for putting him in the awkward situation of having to make something up on the spot. Or maybe it was the fact that Alya looked absolutely stunning, like he’d never seen before. She was in a dazzling dark blue evening gown that he didn’t remember ever seeing her try on. The way the lights hit the small jewels sewn into it made her sparkle as she moved. 

She fidgeted a bit with the fingertip of one of her evening gloves, and he realized suddenly that he was staring with his mouth hanging open like an idiot. “Oh, um…” he stammered, looking for an answer to her question. “How, um… How beautiful you look tonight.” 

Alya blinked, pulling her head back a little from how taken aback she was. She was still always so surprised when he genuinely complimented her, even though he seemed to do it a lot now. “Oh,” was her ever-intelligent response. “I mean. Thank you.” 

“I have to go,” Keith interrupted, unable to handle the two of them for a moment longer. He handed Shiro’s wine glass back to him and reached into the front pocket of his own tuxedo. A moment later, he removed three tickets for them and handed them to Shiro, as well. “You’re going to be in the front right box seats on the second floor. I have to go sit with Alfor for the show.” 

He turned and pointed down to a curtained off area to the left of the grand entrance. “We’re going to be on the lower left. That’s Alfor’s private box. Come and find me during intermission, and I’ll take you to him.” 

Alya nodded and Shiro leaned down to kiss him. This was Keith’s ‘great plan’ for getting Alfor to agree to see her. Sneaking her into a ballet that he’d also be attending and then springing it on him during the intermission. It was less than brilliant, in her opinion, but if Keith thought it would work, she couldn’t argue. He was helping them more than enough by going against the king’s wishes, and then he’d been the one to secure them the tickets, on top of that. 

Once Keith was gone, Lance held an arm out for Alya, which she gratefully took. Suddenly, she felt very nervous about the whole thing. “Relax,” Lance said, feeling her tense up a bit as they started up the stairs. “You’re going to do perfect.” 

From across the entranceway of the theatre, a cold set of eyes was carefully trained on the two ascending up the stairs. There she was. Even from over near the coat check, Lotor could recognize that white-blonde hair in an instant. And, of course, she was still accompanied by the same two men who had stolen her from the Empire. He pulled his own ticket from his pocket, glancing down at his seating. Of course he was on the floor. Nowhere close enough to be able to get near her. He’d just have to wait… 

The ballet didn’t serve to lessen Alya’s nerves for the next hour as she was stuck in her seat. From their box, they had a perfect line of sight into the one where Alfor and Keith sat, and Alya could see the king himself. It was hard to distinguish his features from this far, and in the dark. But knowing that it was him was enough to set her on edge. 

Lance had taken her hand when she’d torn up her program, and told her to relax, and just enjoy the show for now. It hadn’t helped for more than a few minutes, though, before she’d gone back to watching the king’s box more than she was watching the ballet. She couldn’t help it! It was possible that that was her family down there!

Finally, after what seemed like painstakingly long, an intermission came, and Alya was led across the theatre lobby by Shiro and Lance, and met by Keith outside of the curtained area he’d pointed out to them earlier. “Is he in a good mood?” Shiro had asked Keith when he’d come to get them. 

“He’s never in a good mood these days,” was Keith’s less-than-thrilling response. 

Within just moments, though, Keith had brought them behind the curtain to a smaller, more private sitting area. He told Lance and Shiro that they were more than welcome to stay in the private sitting area and wait, while Alya went and spoke with the king. An offer which Lance gladly took, refusing to go with Shiro to get refreshments instead. Shiro might have been the type of person who used the distraction to calm his nerves, but Lance couldn’t fathom doing much of anything else right now knowing she was in there, finally speaking to Alfor. Keith had whisked her away with him so quickly that Lance hadn’t even gotten a chance to say anything more to her. And maybe it would be his last chance to say anything if Alfor saw the truth… 

All of Alya’s built up nervous energy had somehow gotten passed off to him during the time that they sat through the first act. That, or maybe he was just genuinely nervous, himself. Which was pretty likely given that he could just barely see past the curtain into Alfor’s private booth from here, and he couldn’t hear anything. He didn’t want to eavesdrop, but the temptation was there… 

Why was he even worrying? It wasn’t like him to worry, and he already knew the truth about her at this point… All Alfor had to do was  _ talk  _ to her--even just  _ look  _ at her, and it’d be clear who she was. But nothing was ever for certain. 

No. He had to just keep telling himself to relax. That Alya could handle herself better than anyone. And once she did, then she’d get a family! And Lance would… well, Lance would get rich. Maybe it wasn’t a perfect fairytale ending, but it was an ending, and they both would have gotten what they wanted. They had nothing to lose, after all… 

Would he ever cross paths with her again? He thought about that day when he jumped in front of her carriage and for a brief moment and thought maybe he’d do it again now that they were adults. It’d be pretty funny, even if no one else understood it but them. Surely he ought to be happy that this meant freedom for them both? Even if it meant that everything would be different after this, it was what they  _ wanted,  _ right?

But, he couldn’t shake his own feelings off, now. Shiro had gone and gotten into his head the day they’d arrived in Oriande, and ever since then, it had just been downhill. Suddenly Alya  _ mattered  _ to him. And not just because she was a princess he’d briefly been taken with when he was a boy. So maybe… With everything to win, there was actually one thing he would lose… 

Someone entered through the privacy curtain behind him. Thankful that Shiro perhaps had returned, Lance turned towards him.. He did need the distraction, after all. But instead of his old friend standing there, a tall man with long blonde hair was in his place, instead. “Oh,” the man stuttered, his mouth forming a shocked little ‘o’ that he’d run into anyone. “I’m so sorry, I was just looking for someone.” 

All the nervous energy suddenly drained out of Lance and left him feeling almost boneless. He hadn’t seen that face in so long… he had been sure that they’d been free of that face. “What are you doing here, General Zarkon?” he asked, his voice quieter than he’d meant it to be. 

Lotor’s jaw shut with a click. “Ah,” he breathed. “Of course. You must be the thief who stole Alya from the empire to try and use her for money…” 

Lance felt his cheeks flare hot. “Is that what you think?” he asked, his voice just barely a hiss now. 

They stayed locked staring at each other for what felt like an entire age, neither one wanting to make the next move. It was clear enough that Lotor hadn’t thought Lance would be waiting here, and had come for Alya… But what had he come to do? “Please,” he extended a hand out courteously towards Lance. “You don’t need to call me General Zarkon, that was my father. You can call me Lotor.” 

Lance hesitated. This had to be some sort of trick. Like, if he took Lotor’s hand, would he suddenly find himself looking down the barrel of a gun? “Lance,” he replied, not moving to take his hand. “You don’t have to call me ‘thief.’ I never stole Alya. She came with me and Shiro on her own, looking for answers. That’s all.” 

“Shiro?” Lotor repeatedly, unsure. But a moment later, something seemed to click in his head. “Oh, yes. The Count and his… Baron friend.” He pulled his hand back, clearly receiving the message that Lance wasn’t about to accept the good faith handshake. “Yes, I do believe I saw them flaunting each other about. Living in their little daydreams about the past, right?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lance played dumb. He really wanted to get out of this conversation, and he would’ve given anything for Shiro and Keith to return right then. He couldn’t do much else--he was the only thing currently standing between a high ranking Galra official and the last two surviving members of the Altean royal bloodline. 

“Altea is gone, and yet they act as if nothing’s changed, Lance,” Lotor replied. “And it’s not coming back. It’s sad to see them so… caught up in their fantasies about it, still.” 

“They’re just trying to live their lives,” Lance said with a shrug. “Trying to move forward. Like Alya is.” 

“Alya…” Lotor nodded, like he was thinking very hard about what to do with her. “Tell me, Lance, how exactly  _ did  _ you convince her to pursue this foolish dream of hers? How does one lead another so astray like that? She was a good, loyal member of the Galra empire before you.” 

Lance scoffed, which might have been a terrible reaction, but it had just slipped out before he could stop himself. “Lead her?” he repeated. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. Every real step it took to get us here was all her. The money for the train, us jumping off the train at the border. All of it. I wouldn’t even be in Oriande if it weren’t for  _ her.  _ I didn’t lead her to anything.” 

“Because you think you can change history?” Lotor asked. 

Lance’s temper was flaring again, and he  _ really  _ would give anything for someone to show up and help him at this point. “Because I believe in her,” he replied, poignantly. 

A look of realization passed over Lotor’s face as he said that. “Oh, so you love her?” he asked. 

Before he could think, Lance had Lotor by the collar of his suit and had managed to take him by surprise enough to overpower him, and slam him up against the wall. He gave a loud grunt, and Lance could easily feel pain blooming in his broken ribs from the sudden, forceful movement. But he wasn’t about to just let go. “What are you doing here, Lotor?” he asked, his voice a low growl. He really didn’t want to rouse anyone’s attention now that he’d just straight out attacked someone. “Why are you standing here wasting time talking to me if you’re here for her?” 

Lotor’s smug look had vanished and was replaced by one of pure shock. He truly hadn’t expected Lance to act--hadn’t even prepared to take anyone out of the equation if necessary. His gun was in his coat pocket, at the coat check. He’d just thought that maybe if he could get Alya alone… 

“Well?” Lance demanded when Lotor didn’t answer him. 

“A-Alya needs to be stopped,” he spat. “The revolution happened for a reason; times must change. If she claims to be Allura, then she could ruin all of that. So they sent me to take care of her, Lance. A choice. Either I kill her myself, or I bring her back to the empire and they will kill her.”

“Then what’s the hold up? I’m just one guy.” Lance was seething, and Lotor wasn’t making much sense. If the job was just to kill Alya, then surely no one in the empire would be too fussed if he killed Lance while he was at it. And yet he was just standing here trying to play mind games, instead. 

“I-I…” Lotor stammered, not sure how to answer the question. He  _ had _ come here for Alya. He had! But…

“Answer me!” 

“I came here first… as her friend,” Lotor replied. “I just wanted to talk. I promise.” 

Lance hadn’t been expecting that answer. His eyebrows lifted a little bit, and he loosened his grip on the man’s collar. “You can’t talk her out of this, Lotor,” he said. “She’d rather die than go without finding her family. And you’re no friend to her if you prevent her from reaching a dream like that.” 

“So I’m a better friend if I kill her?” Lotor scoffed, shaking his head. “Or better yet, let her be killed by someone who’ll do it far less kindly than I?” 

Lance felt his nose wrinkle up as he continued speaking. Everything coming out of his mouth was so messed up--was he really that brainwashed by the empire? “I would die before I’d let them use me against my  _ friends _ like that,” he stated simply, letting go of Lotor with one final shove. 

Lotor stumbled a bit as he regained control of his own weight again. He didn’t look too thrilled with Lance’s response. “And what a wonderful friend you are,” was his sarcastic response, and Lance could practically feel the energy radiating off of him. “Taking her away from her home so she can chase a fool’s dream.” 

“Oh, and I suppose you know what’s best for her better than she does?” Lance scoffed, shaking his head. Suddenly, it clicked together in his head. All of this circular logic, all this flawed reasoning and talk like Lotor knew what was best for Alya and was trying to ‘save’ her from herself? It was all because of one thing. And it would have made Lance laugh, if it hadn’t been just so sad. 

The Galra really were that awful. And Lotor really did care for Alya, in his own way. And this whole situation was so,  _ so  _ messed up. “If you love her the way you think you do, then let this go,” Lance finally said softly. “She doesn’t need anyone to rescue her. You can help your friend by walking away and leaving this whole thing alone. Tell the Galra what you have to… they’ll never check past their own borders.” 

Lotor slowly looked back over at Lance, his face unreadable and cold. For a moment, Lance thought that maybe he saw a flicker of shock, but it was gone before he could tell. “Whatever happens now,” he said, his voice just as flat and cold. “Alya brought upon herself.” 

And with that, Lotor disappeared through the privacy curtain the way he’d come. The moment he was gone, Lance let go of a breath he hadn’t realized he was even holding on to. His knees wobbled a bit and he leaned against a nearby table for support. Shiro… he needed to find Alya and get to Shiro and Keith. They’d know what to do. 

Before he could move, there was movement from the other side of the room. He jumped, turning to find Alya standing at the red curtain to the private box. Her expression was strange, and distant in a way that was different than what Lance was familiar with. He hoped that she hadn’t heard what had happened with Lotor. It would only frighten her more after everything that had happened tonight. “How’d it go?” he asked, softly, reaching for her. 

Alya pulled away from him, averting her eyes. “He wouldn’t even  _ look  _ at me, Lance,” she said, her voice void of emotion. He blinked at her, stunned and unsure of what to say. “He said to Keith ‘tell this imposter that I know her kind. She wants money and she’ll break an old man’s heart just to get it.’” 

Lance shook his head. No, this was all wrong, Keith had said that this would work, hadn’t he? Alya’s dreams were supposed to come true tonight, not be crushed like this… and with everything Lance knew at this point, too… Alfor was turning his back on the  _ real  _ Allura. “No,” he shook his head, going to cross past Alya. “Let me talk to him, I’ll tell him the truth.” 

She scoffed, pushing him away from the curtain. “What, that I was just a pawn in your entire scheme?” she asked, her voice growing angrier at each word. “That that day at Melenor’s theatre, you weren’t just there with Shiro, but were actually  _ holding auditions _ for an Allura lookalike?” 

“What?” Lance asked, staring down at her. “Alya, no.” 

“He told me all  _ about _ you, Lance,” she hissed, her eyes filled with tears and disbelief. “I can’t believe that I ever believed you were actually trying to help me! I just was the lucky girl who got the  _ part _ ! And you… you made me  _ think _ , you  _ convinced me _ , that I was someone I never was… and never could be!” 

“Alya, you have this all wrong,” Lance held his hands out to try and take hers, his heart pounding in his chest. “Maybe it might have started out that way, but everything’s different now! Because you  _ are _ Princess Allura!” She pulled her hands from him again, trying to walk away towards the exit. “You are!” 

“Stop it, Lance!” she commanded, her voice getting shrill as she turned back to face him again. “You lied to me! Everything was a lie, from the very beginning! And I not only believed you, but for a moment, I started to think of myself as someone greater than I could ever be! And I might have been cold, and desperate, and hungry when I met you, but I was never dishonest! You  _ made _ me dishonest, Lance.” 

She turned away from him again. “And I hate you for that.” She started towards the exit again, and Lance felt himself panicking. She couldn’t walk away from this--not after everything she’d been through! Her real father was here, and Lotor was out there waiting for her! 

“No, Alya, listen to me!” he jumped in front of her, to try and stop her. “Last night, when we talked about the parade… and the little boy who bowed to you. That was me, Alya! And you remembered that, yourself. I never told you it!” 

Alya’s face flushed a deep red color as she got truly, deeply angry with him for the first time since they’d met. “NO!” she shouted, shoving him away from her. “I don’t want to hear anything about what I ‘remembered’ or said! Just leave me alone, Lance!” She shoved past him, reaching for the curtain into the lobby. 

In one last ditch effort, Lance reached out and grabbed her arm to stop her. This was all a huge misunderstanding, she had to see that! But before he could speak again, she suddenly turned on him, her hand slapping down against his cheek with an impressive SMACK!

When he opened his eyes again, she was already gone. He held his red, throbbing cheek with the hand he’d just tried to hold onto her with, staring in silence at the curtain. It opened again a moment later to reveal Shiro, looking equally as stunned as Lance felt. “What happened?” he asked, sternly. 

Lance huffed in his frustration. Where the hell had Shiro been ten minutes ago when Lotor had been here, or even two minutes ago when Alya had refused to listen to reason? “Lance,” Shiro said, begging for any answer. A moment later, Keith emerged from behind the second curtain, looking dejected. 

“I’m sorry, Lance,” he said, softly. “I tried.” 

“What happened?” Shiro asked Keith, visibly dissatisfied with Lance’s lack of appropriate answer. He reached out for Keith, who easily slid into his arms. 

“He didn’t even  _ look _ at her!” Lance burst, shooting his accusatory tone at Keith, since there was no one else better fitting as a target for his newfound anger. “He told her that I lied to her! Tricked her into thinking she’s someone she’s not!” 

“I’m sorry,” Keith repeated, pulling himself from Shiro’s embrace to stand face to face with him. As he stood under the red hot anger of Lance’s stare, his own voice took on a much more serious tone, his own temper flaring. He wasn’t about to be the scapegoat for this.“The king is old and stubborn. I can’t control him, and trust me, no one understands how damn infuriating he can be better than me.” 

“You’re the one who said you’d get Alfor to talk to her! She doesn’t want his money! All she wants is what she rightfully deserves; his acceptance and her  _ father  _ back!!” 

“Lance!” Shiro snapped, pulling Lance away from Keith. He hadn’t even realized that he’d been pushing so close in towards him… he’d somehow managed to back Keith up against the wall. 

Keith clenched and unclenched his jaw, levelling his temper and trying to stay patient… and failing. He’s the reason Shiro’s even alive, he repeatedly reminded himself in his head. “I can’t control what the king does or says,” he repeated, slowly to make sure he was keeping his cool as he said it. “But I’m on your side. It doesn’t do us any good to argue over whether the king was wrong or not.” 

“Yeah? Well, he was!” Lance spat. 

“Lance,” Shiro’s tone was a warning. He was quickly putting himself in the wrong the more he ran his mouth. 

“We need to go after her,” Lance said, shaking his head as he suddenly remembered just who he’d been talking to before she’d come out of the private box. “Before, when she was in there talking to Alfor… Lotor was here looking for her.” 

“What?” Shiro asked, straightening up. That got his attention for sure. “General Zarkon?” 

“Yeah,” Lance answered, nodding. “They sent him… they sent him to kill her.” 

Keith swore under his breath when he said that. What the hell had he agreed to, and gotten himself into? If they’d led the Galra straight to the king, Keith would personally kill Lance himself. “Okay,” he breathed, quickly calculating what they’d do in his head. “I’m going to get our driver and have Alfor escorted home. You two go get the coats while I do that, and then we’ll go find her.” 

Shiro and Lance nodded, agreeing to the plan quickly and heading towards coat check, careful to watch for Lotor the whole way. Fortunately, almost everyone had gone back into the theatre to enjoy the second act, so it was easy to see if anything was out of place. Once they got their coats, Lance turned to Shiro. “You go with Keith to find Alya,” he said. “She’s not going to want to see me… and I have something else I need to take care of.” 

“What?” Shiro asked, sounding confused. He thought for sure that Lance would want to come with them and assure Alya’s safety. 

“Please, just,” Lance huffed, rubbing his eyes with the bottoms of his palms in exasperation. “Just find her and take care of her, okay? I promise I’ll be back.” He pleaded with Shiro with his eyes not to ask anymore questions. And he couldn’t really explain himself just yet, he just knew what he had to do next, and he wasn’t even sure how he was going to do it, yet. 

Shiro seemed to understand, and heaved a sigh. There wasn’t much use talking Lance out of something once he got it in his head. This whole thing was proof enough of that--this had all started with one of Lance’s ideas. “Fine,” he nodded. “Just promise me you won’t get in too much trouble.” 

“I’ll do my best,” Lance replied, chuckling. “But I make no promises.” Before he could say anything more, Shiro pulled him into an embrace of his own. It caught him off guard; the two of them had never hugged before. Not once in all these years together. “Uh… thanks…” he said, unsurely. 

“We’re going to fix this, Lance,” Shiro reassured him with a smile. “Once she calms down, I’m sure she’ll see reason, too.” 

Oh. He meant that they’d fix everything between Alya and Lance… Lance had been a bit more concerned with making sure Lotor didn’t kidnap her and kill her. But yeah, that was important, too, he supposed. “Just keep her safe?” he asked. 

Shiro nodded and promised to do everything he could. With that assurance, Lance finally turned and headed out of the theatre towards the valet area. If he was truly going to end up in a confrontation with everyone tonight, then there was one more person that he needed to have a word with… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (silently ups the final chapter count from 14 to 15)


	12. Juniberry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance confronts Alfor once and for all in an attempt to make him see reason. Meanwhile Alya, feeling the pain of rejection, prepares to leave Oriande and her dreams behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry y'all, I know my updates are a little slow but I PROMISE you I haven't forgotten about this fic or abandoned it. The entire thing is actually written and finished, I've just been busy with some other hobbies and haven't had the type to proofread and edit them. 
> 
> So thank you all for sticking with me, and for all of your support! I'm so happy that this fic has been so well received. 
> 
> Now! On to the chapter! No content warnings once again.

The night air was chilly against Lance’s skin as he waited outside the theatre. It felt like he’d been waiting for so much longer than he actually had, when he finally saw the former king being escorted from the theatre. It was the driver of the vehicle with him, thank goodness, and not Keith. So that was good news and would make this so much easier for Lance. Because he wasn’t about to take no for an answer. 

He waited until the chauffeur was holding the back door open for Alfor to make his way over. There was no way he was going to get Alfor alone tonight any other way. Hopefully Keith hadn’t informed anyone of the Lotor threat yet, so he wouldn’t cause too much of a panic with what he was about to do. 

The chauffeur shut the back door and was crossing around the back of the car now, so Lance cut around the front end. He didn’t move too quickly, so as not to alert any suspicion. Fortunately, his tux made him look enough like the chauffeur, who was all dressed in black and white, himself. 

He jumped into the driver’s seat of the car the moment that he was close enough, slamming the door shut and quickly turning the key in the ignition. The moment the engine roared to life, he hit the gas and sped away. In the distance behind him, he could hear the yells of the chauffeur calling after him. 

“Slow down, Kinkade,” the king said sternly from the back seat, clearly not having even realized that the man in the front seat was decidedly not his driver. “There’s no need to drive like a madman!” 

“I’m not Kinkade,” Lance replied, glancing at Alfor in his rear view mirror. He didn’t dare to turn his head and face the king; he had only driven a car a couple of times before. They weren’t exactly common back in the Galra Empire. “And I’m not going to slow down. Not until you listen.” 

Alfor’s face paled with shock, and he tried to grab Lance by the shoulder from the front seat. “Who are you?” he demanded. “Stop this car, immediately!” 

But Lance didn’t stop, and he managed to get Alfor to let go of him pretty easily. “I’m not going to hurt you!” he insisted. “But we  _ need _ to talk.” 

“I recognize you,” Alfor said, squinting and leaning over passenger side front seat of the car to get a better look at Lance’s face. “You were that kitchen boy that Chef Garrett took in, weren’t you? The clumsy one who always dropped plates.” 

Lance pressed his lips together, making a face at that. Aside from being shocked that Alfor even recognized him, he wasn’t too thrilled that the thing he was remembered by was how bad he’d been at the only real job he’d ever had in his life. “Yes, your majesty,” he replied, simply. 

Alfor stared at him, clearly a bit stunned to be seeing him again. But Lance quickly turned towards the only place he knew nearby; Keith’s flat. It was suddenly very hard being in a city that he didn’t know every nook and cranny of. “Why are you here?” Alfor finally asked, seeing that he recognized where Lance was going. “What do you want from me?” 

“Nothing you’re not capable of giving,” Lance grumbled, pulling up and parking the car in front of the building Keith’s flat was in. He got out of the car before Alfor could question him anymore, and crossed around to open the kings door, so that they were face-to-face. “We need to talk about Alya,” 

“You mean that girl who came into my private box this evening?” Alfor asked, bemused. “Yes, Keith and I will have a  _ very _ long discussion about that. He distinctly went against my orders bringing her to me.” 

Lance’s face reddened again, but he took a deep breath as he kneeled down in front of Alfor’s open door, looking up to meet him in the eye. This was just like when he first met Alya and she was so hurt and stubborn all the time, he told himself. He just needed to be patient. “You have to talk to her,” he replied. “Just look at her! Please!” 

“I’m not going to be harassed about this again,” Alfor said. “Especially not from a man who just kidnapped me by stealing my driver’s car!” 

He heaved a sigh, shaking his head. “Look, I don’t intend you any harm, your majesty,” he said. Admittedly, this plan was crazy and just a little bit stupid. But what other choice did he have? “But you  _ need _ to see Alya. I assure you, that she is--”

“I know everything I need to know, young man,” Alfor replied. “I’ve seen it plenty of times before; young men like  _ you  _ who train lookalikes in the royal ways. I just cannot believe that you managed to get Count Shirogane of all people to betray me like this. Though, I suppose, I shouldn’t expect more from him… It’s not the first time he’s lied his way into royalty.” 

“It’s  _ her _ this time, your majesty,” Lance sighed with a shake of his head. “I know it sounds like a lie. And yes, I will admit that when I started this whole thing, my intention was dishonest. But she is Allura! She knows things she cannot possibly know. That neither I, nor Shiro, told her!” 

“Many girls have claimed to know things before, young man,” Alfor said, disheartened. 

“She remembered me from something I had never told a soul before, your majesty,” Lance insisted. He shoved a hand into his coat pockets. There was a small, round object in his pocket that he had taken with him with the intention of reassuring Alya with it. But it would work for this, too… He pulled the music box from his coat, holding it up for Alfor. “Do you recognize this?” he asked. 

Alfor stared at the small pink and gold box like he’d seen a ghost. Slowly, as if he might be dreaming and moving too quickly would make it disappear, he reached a hand out to take it from Lance. “Where did you get this?” he asked, softly. 

“It’s not important,” Lance replied. “What’s important, your majesty, is that she has the other piece. The necklace with the flower pendant that’s the key. The one that you gave her the last day you saw her.” 

Alfor looked from the music box, up to Lance’s face, still with an expression of amazement. It was Lance’s final piece of the puzzle, and he hadn’t even realized it when he and Shiro had bought it. “I know you’ve been hurt, your majesty,” he said softly. The king reminded Lance so much of how Alya had been when they’d met, and it just made him all the more sure of what he already knew to be true. “But isn’t it possible that she’s been just as lost and alone as you? She doesn’t want your money. I take full responsibility for that. All Alya has ever wanted is to find her family.” 

Alfor was watching him, weighing his expressions carefully as he spoke. “You’ll stop at nothing,” he remarked in a way that made it clear that it wasn’t a question. 

But he said it kindly enough to draw a soft chuckle from Lance as he lifted himself up so he was standing up straight again. “No,” he said. “I’m probably about as stubborn as you… and her.” Alfor sighed, but gave Lance a knowing look and nodded.

* * *

“Where are you going to go?” Shiro asked, taking a step back with arms held up defensively. The hotel room looked like a tornado had hit it, with all of Alya’s new things strewn everywhere in her haste to start packing it into the suitcase. 

“I don’t know,” Alya replied sternly. “But I can’t stay here. Not with  _ him _ here.” She wasn’t even looking at Shiro as she said it, scrambling to get her clothes folded and packed away. As she reached for her brush on the table next to her bed, she spotted a small stuffed lion laying on her bed. “What’s this?” she demanded of Shiro, rather than ask. 

“I believe Lance bought that for you,” he answered, softly. Keith made a face from over by the doorway, not ready to insert himself in that particular drama. 

“Well, I don’t want it,” she replied, tossing it onto the floor in her anger. “It was  _ my  _ life he played with! Telling me I was someone else… letting me  _ believe  _ it!” Shiro didn’t say anything, unsure of  _ what _ to say. He’d already tried talking her down when they’d entered the hotel room, and it hadn’t worked. At this point, he was just thankful that she’d been so easy to find. 

“And you!” She pointed and accusing finger at Shiro. “You were supposed to be the on the royals’ side, and you just  _ let _ Lance do all of this! It’s no wonder you claimed you had to lie your way into the good graces of the court! Men like you deserve every bad hand life deals them.” She stomped over to Shiro, ripping the medal from his jacket and letting it fall to the ground. “You both do.” She shot a glare over Shiro’s shoulder at Keith, too, her voice wavering a little. 

Keith opened his mouth to defend himself, but before any words could come out, he heard the clicking of the hotel key in the front door behind him. He turned to look just as Lance softly padded in, motioning for Keith to follow him. Alya had turned back to her suitcase, still listing all of her grievances with Shiro and Lance, as she did so. So Keith just nudged Shiro and pointed over to the front door. 

“And to think,” Alya huffed, folding her pale blue dress for what felt like the fifth time. She didn’t even notice when Shiro and Keith silently retreated from her room, and were replaced by another man’s figure in the doorway. “I admired how proud you and Lance were of your past, despite everything life had thrown at either of you. And you even somehow managed to make me feel proud of myself, too. When the whole time, you were just tricking me. Princess Allura. What a joke!” 

The man who stood in the doorway softly knocked against the wooden frame to get her attention. She huffed, standing up straight. “Go away, Lance!” she demanded, assuming anyone new entering the room  _ had _ to be the last person she wanted to see. “I don’t want to--” She jumped when she turned and was face to face with none other than the king himself. “Your majesty!” she dropped down into a clumsy, hasty curtsy. She stammered, her heart racing in her chest. Had it been racing this whole time? “I-I’m so sorry, your majesty. I th-thought you were someone else.” 

“I know who you thought I was,” Alfor said with a soft laugh. “A young thief who won’t take no for an answer… Please.” He crossed over and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “There’s no need for such formality. I think it’s only fair that we see this through to the end.” 

Alya looked up at him, standing up straight again, but still trying to maintain a polite poise. “Please, have a seat if you’d like,” she said softly. She felt embarrassed that he might have heard any part of the things she’d just ranted and raved like a mad woman. 

“There’s no need,” Alfor replied. “I wish to be brief. Who are you?” 

She blinked, taken aback by how straightforward he was being now, as opposed to earlier when he didn’t even answer her. But at least this time he was looking at her… And despite the rough exterior, she could see that his eyes were so kind, now. “I don’t know,” she answered, her voice wobbling a little bit as she said so. “I was hoping that… you might be able to tell me.” 

Alfor sighed, looking her up and down as if he were examining a jewel for flaws. “Young lady, I’m old now… And I am tired of having my heart broken by people looking for a reward.” 

“I don’t want your money,” Alya replied, shaking her head. Before tonight, she had barely even known about the reward for the princess’ safe return. She pushed the suitcase to the other side of her bed, sitting on the edge of it with a sigh. “I just--”

“You dare to sit without the king’s permission?” Alfor asked. His face looked amused, but his voice was loud and authoritative. Alya jumped up to her feet again, her mouth hanging open in shock. They stared at each other for a moment like that, before Alfor broke the silence again. “Okay, okay! I’m sorry, you can sit.” 

Alya wasn’t sure if he’d changed his mind or if he’d just been kind of joking the entire time. But she slowly lowered herself back onto the bed and sat a little bit more awkwardly this time. “I’ll sit too,” Alfor said, sounding like he felt every bit as awkward as Alya felt. But he did as he said, sitting down next to the girl. Whether or not it had been a joke, it seemed palpable now that he’d made things that much worse between the two. It was enough to make a nervous giggle bubble up and out of her mouth. 

“I didn’t imagine you’d be like… th-this…” Alya hesitated, stumbling over her words a bit as she thought better of it. This was a king, after all, and even on the dwindling chance that Alya was the princess, there needed to be a certain level of respect. 

“Like what?” Alfor asked, looking over at her, curiously. When she didn’t answer, he prodded a bit more. “You can speak freely, you know… Like what?” 

She looked down at her own hands, still unsure that she should say what she’d been thinking. But he’d told her to… For a moment, she thought back to how he wouldn’t even look at her back at the theatre, pulling away from her with a scoff. But here he was… sitting next to her, ready to talk and listen. And he was looking at her now, but she was so scared to look back. “So cruel,” she answered, her voice just barely above a murmur. 

There was a long pause before Alfor let out a breath and nodded. “Young lady,” he said, his voice soft, “I am old and I’m tired of being conned and tricked. Kindness has become a luxury.” 

“My father was the kindest man I knew,” Alya said, certain of that fact. She may not have remembered who she was, but there were still feelings dormant inside of her mind. Like emotional memories that she could feel, but not attach anything else to. 

“I could have been that man,” Alfor replied. “But that was before they murdered everyone that I loved.” Alya swallowed, the lump in her throat returning. There was another pause between them before Alfor spoke again. And when he did, it was a question, much like the many interview questions Coran and Keith had asked her. “Who was the Queen’s lady in waiting?” 

“She didn’t have one,” Alya said, sitting up straight and looking over at him as she said it. She was certain she was correct, but she couldn’t remember where she knew it from. Shiro certain hadn’t spent much time on ladies in waiting. “She kept dismissing them.” 

Alfor’s eyes were locked with Alya’s now as she answered it, weighing her carefully. “You’re very good, I’ll give you that,” he chuckled, nodding. “It was a trick question… That Count Shirogane taught you well, I’ll say that much.” He was wrong, of course, Alya thought to herself. Shiro hadn’t taught her anything about the servants. Everything she knew of the castle’s staffing had come from somewhere else… 

“You look very much like my daughter,” Alfor said quietly. He reached out to gently touch a finger under her chin, lifting her face to turn it to one side a little. “I don’t trust my own eyes anymore…” 

“Why don’t you want me to be Allura?” she asked, pulling away from his touch. She was probably pushing her luck with the old king’s patience. If that night had taught her anything, it was that she should consider herself lucky to be talking to him at all, and not to expect much else. It was clear now that he would turn away anyone. 

He folded his hands in his lap again, but his face didn’t show any sign of anger or indignation with how willful she was being. “I suppose I’ve found solace in my own stubbornness and defeatism,” he replied. “What I can convince myself of, will never disappoint me… But you Alluras? You somehow always do.” 

Alya’s heart broke a little for the old king as he said that. All the years she’d spent looking for her own family, it was hard sometimes not to just give up hope and let herself fall into whatever came easy. And she couldn’t even remember her family. She could only imagine what he’d been through. She reached up to nervously fiddle with the thin golden chain around her neck. “Why did you come here, then?” she asked, softly. 

Alfor nodded, moving on from the gloominess of that previous question with her. “Your young man,” he replied, with a soft laugh and a wag of his finger. “He came to me--hijacked me, more like! He says you weren’t a part of his scheme.” 

“He’s right,” Alya answered, her voice running a bit cold at the mention of Lance. What did Alfor mean that he’d hijacked him? She almost didn’t even want to know. “I wasn’t.” 

“He thinks you may very well be my daughter,” Alfor continued. “Says you’ve come to believe it yourself, too.” 

“I don’t know what I believe anymore,” she said, softly. It sounded sad as she said it, but it weighed heavy on her heart. She didn’t know if she truly believed she was Allura, or if she’d just fallen for some grand trick. 

“Well surely you must believe something,” Alfor replied. 

She considered that for a while, still playing with the pendant of the necklace. What  _ did  _ she believe? “I believe that I have a family,” she replied, quietly. “And…” She took a shaky breath, trying to steady herself as she continued on. “And I believe that maybe it might be your family. But I can’t know for sure unless you recognize me.” 

Alfor pulled Alya’s hand into his, away from the pendant keeping her safely anchored her there. “You can’t be sure of anything unless you first recognize yourself,” he said, his voice gentle and firm all at once. There was a long pause as she let his words sink in, and she nodded. Once she did, he let go of her hand. “So I’m going to ask you one last time, young lady. Who are you?”

“I don’t know,” she answered, her voice as firm as his had been. Maybe she wasn’t really Allura after all. But she was still Alya--an orphan who travelled halfway across the world to get here with one set of clothes. A lost little girl who jumped off a train and escaped from an empire that wanted her dead, on foot. And above all, she was someone who still believed that she had a family somewhere, if only she could remember them. 

She did recognize herself. Maybe for a little while she’d forgotten it in this dream and in the sparkling lights of Oriande, but she remembered that much now. She could be Allura tomorrow, and she may have been Allura a lifetime ago, but today she was just Alya. And she was sitting with a king! Or… a former king… “Who are you?” she asked him. 

He laughed, shaking his head, clearly thinking that she was joking by asking him that. But Alya didn’t waver--she’d been serious when she’d asked. And he must have seen that in her face, because when he looked over at her, his laughter died off quickly. 

Alfor considered her question for a moment before he answered. “I’m an old man,” he said, “who remembers everything as it should have been and only sees how it should be. I’m a father who lost his wife and children, and never married again. I was born a king and will die a man, and no white lion nor prophecy will ever replace what I lost.” 

It had been more than she’d offered him, and more than she’d asked for, but her heart broke again. She wanted so badly to be his family--to be his daughter. Maybe then they’d both feel a little bit more complete. Alfor looked away from her, his eyes sad and looking like he was remembering something he wished he could just forget. 

Alya reached up again to hold onto the thin pink and gold pendant around her neck. It was all she had now, after all. But it was a promise from some forgotten family of hers somewhere. 

“Where did you get that?” Alfor’s voice came a moment or two later. When Alya looked over at him, he was pointing at the necklace in her hand. 

She looked down at it, a little alarmed by the question. It wasn’t good table manners to fidget, after all, was it? She knew better. Shiro had taught her better. “Oh, um,” she let go of it enough so that the pendant lay down flat in her open palm. “This? I’ve had this for as long as I can remember… since before the hospital in Arus, at least…” 

“The hospital in Arus?” Alfor questioned. 

“I was found in Arus, and woke up in a hospital there. I have no memory before that,” Alya explained with a shrug. “It’s from someone important, I know that… I think it’s from my family, maybe? It was all I had with me, aside from a diamond that the nurse found sewn into my clothes.” 

“A diamond?” He made a motion to her that he wanted to see the necklace for himself and that made her hesitate. She couldn’t ever remember a time where she’d taken the necklace off, except that night on the bridge. And that was just to take the diamond off of it. And look how much good that decision had done her--trusting Lance had been her one mistake. 

“Yes,” she answered, deciding to take the necklace off and nervously hand it over to him. “I don’t know much more about that, unfortunately. The nurse held onto it until I was old enough to leave the hospital and go work. She told me never to show it to anyone.” 

Alfor took the necklace, holding it up close to his face so that he could better examine it. “Do you have this diamond?” he asked, curiously. 

“No,” Alya laughed softly with a shake of her head. “We sold it to be able to afford to come here.” 

But Alfor wasn’t going to ask anymore questions about that silly little thing. It wasn’t important. The truly important item was here in his hands. He reached down with one hand into the pocket of his jacket, keeping ahold of the necklace with the other. “It was supposed to be our little secret,” he said, pulling the small golden box out as he did. “My Allura’s and mine.” 

Alya watched him, stunned to see the music box again. It was obvious that the only way he could have had that, was if Lance had given it to him when he’d supposedly ‘hijacked’ the king that night. But she didn’t even know that Lance had taken the music box with them to the theatre that night. She thought it was still locked in the small hotel safe. As she watched, Alfor slowly reached over to hand both items back to Alya. 

Alya looked from his hands up to his face, and realized that her mouth was hanging open rather dumbly. She took the box, and it’s key from him, shutting her jaw so that her teeth gave a click. “It was the last time you saw Allura, right?” she replied, nervously. “You were leaving for Oriande with your paladins, again. You didn’t give any of her sisters presents that night. That’s why it was such a secret. If the queen knew you’d giving one daughter a special gift before a battle, and not the others, she would have been cross.” A giggling laugh bubbled up out of her as she said it and she realized something again; her voice was wet with tears. “You told her that as long as she had this music box, you’d be with her wherever she went.” 

Alfor’s eyes were watering as she spoke, too. Like he couldn’t believe what she was telling him. She smiled anyways and slid the pendant into place, twisting it a few times with a small cranking sound. “The key’s a Juniberry flower, because it was her favorite… my favorite.” 

The tinkling song started to fill the room they were in, and she quickly found herself humming along with it. It was so familiar now that she wasn’t sure how she could have ever forgotten it. She could even remember some of the words now, and sang them aloud as the music softly came to an end. “It’s the lullaby you and mother sang for us,” she said softly. “I came to Oriande with you after all, father.” 

She gasped a little, looking up at him with wide eyes in her own shock that she’d called him her father. It was highly presumptuous; he hadn’t accepted her as Allura. But Alfor’s eyes were wet with tears and he was pulling her into a hug before she could even gauge his reaction. “What took you so long, Allura?” he asked. 

Outside the door, Lance couldn’t hear anything once the music had stopped. But there weren’t any raised voices, and what he  _ could  _ hear didn’t sound angry. So… he took that as his signal that everything was finally right. A small, sad smile spread across his face, and he nodded his head. His princess was home now, and she would be happy. 

He softly pressed a kiss to his fingertips, and gently touched them once to the door. Then, he slid his hands into his pockets, and turned so that he could walk away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything's coming together for our heroes! 
> 
> Well... all except for one...


	13. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uhh... how about that isolation and quarantine?? I hope everyone's staying safe out there and STAYING HOME!! Keep yourself, your loved ones, and others safe. 
> 
> On the bright side, isolation and quarantine means I had time to edit this chapter and get it up for you! I hope maybe in these hard times that it can bring you some sort of joy. We're getting down to the wire of this fic and I'm excited for you all to see how it turns out! 
> 
> CONTENT WARNING: Gun usage (very very end of the chapter)

The shuttering of camera lenses was so loud, but the demands and questions of the news reporters harassing Keith as he walked to the front gate of the palace, were even louder. Alfor had been so quick to call a press conference since the night he’d realized Alya was his daughter. In fact, he’d been so quick that ‘that night’ had really only been the night before last. 

And, of course, the moment he had called it, the rumors had begun to fly through the media as to what the mystery conference with the former members of the Altean monarchy could be about. Keith could hardly go anywhere since then without being absolutely bombarded by reporters and paparazzi snapping away, taking photos of him that he didn’t agree to. He hadn’t felt this watched since he’d  _ actually _ been a member of the royalty. It was suffocating! 

On top of that, they’d managed to spot him out on the balcony of his flat the other night with Shiro, and of course some savvy reporter had been able to identify the missing count. So now the rumors today were even crazier. And some were uncannily dead on. Pretty much all the reporters had come to the conclusion that if a missing count had returned, then maybe the press conference was about certain  _ other _ missing royalty. 

Maybe even a certain missing princess, who was fortunate enough to have been secretly ushered into the palace with Alfor that morning. Keith, on the other hand, was just on his own, which was exhausting. He hadn’t felt like he’d needed a private security detail since before the fall of Altea. 

At this point, he just walked with Shiro out in the open, because what else where the reporters going to do? Keith wasn’t royalty anymore, and he certainly wasn’t betrothed to anyone. So he held his head high, kept Shiro’s hand clamped firmly in his, and pushed forward into the gate of the palace, where he was so excited to finally get a reprieve from the commotion. For now, at least. 

“You’re sure you’re okay with them having photos of us like that?” Shiro asked as they headed up the steps into the grand entrance of the palace. It wasn’t actually a palace that was owned by any real monarchy; it was more of a fancy, opulent state building in Oriande. But it was where Alfor had decided to hold this thing. 

“Shiro,” Keith said with a sigh. “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life. I’ve gone how many years worrying you might be dead? So now that you’re alive, who cares if any of them have anything to say.” A staff member shut the door behind them as they entered, and another moved to take their coats, which Keith quickly shrugged out of. “You sure _ you’re  _ not the one who isn’t okay with it?” 

Shiro’s face flushed red a little bit as he took his own coat off, handing it to the man. “What?” he asked, sounding surprised by the question. A question which, frankly, sounded a little bit more like an accusation! “No, of course not!” 

Keith crossed his arms over his chest, raising a doubtful eyebrow. 

“Okay, fine,” Shiro huffed, shaking his head as he burst open with practically zero prodding from his lover. It was hard to hide anything from Keith. If only because he was just always near enough to exploding with excitement just being with him again. But the added concerns on top of that? “Yeah, it worries me a little! But I’ve also spent all those years living in the Galra, so…” He trailed off, not sure how to really end that sentence. He was being paranoid. 

Keith’s face softened a little and he uncrossed his arms, reaching up to gently rub Shiro’s. “I promise you, we’re safe. No one here is going to give a damn. And we’re not actually royals anymore. Just rich assholes who get bossed around by other rich assholes.” 

Shiro snorted at that, but nodded and gave a sigh of relief. Keith was right, he knew that. After all, Keith had been living here for almost half of his life. Even if he somehow managed to make being a ‘rich asshole’ sound like the biggest bore in the world. “Hooraaaayyy,” Shiro gave a very lame, very clearly fake cheer. 

“Hooray, rich asshoooles!” Keith matched his tone with a soft laugh. He took Shiro’s wrists and lifted his hands up, making fake whooping motions with Shiro’s arms. It made him laugh again. Once he smiled, Keith let go and reached up to cup his face and press a deep kiss into his lips, instead. “We’re okay. I promise,” he said softly. 

Shiro nodded, smiling down at him and running his hands along Keith’s wrists. “Okay,” he said. 

He leaned in to kiss him again, but before he could, Coran suddenly rounded the corner and saw them. “Ah! Where have you been, Keith?” he asked, quickly descending down the steps towards the two men standing in the entrance. But before either of them could answer, Coran was moving on without them. “His majesty has already prepared your statements to the press, for when you inevitably get asked questions about the missing princess leading up to the actual conference! Don’t spill the beans! Alfor wishes to make the official announcement himself!” As if realizing they weren’t alone, Coran suddenly cast a nervous glare over to the doorman. As if he would go blabbing to the first reporter he found. 

“Come along, you two,” he said. “It’s better if we speak in private!” He turned and lead them up the stairs into a sort of makeshift conference room. Where there had once most likely been a massive desk or table, there was a podium and several grand, ornate chairs set up at the head of the room. Then, there were many simpler basic chairs set up facing those ones. A perfect room for royalty to hold a press conference. 

“Wow, I really forgot how quick you work, Coran,” Shiro remarked, looking amazed. 

“Yes, yes, come along now,” Coran was moving through the large set up towards another door all the way across the room, behind the ornate ‘thrones.’ The two followed him onward as he kept debriefing them about what they were to say and what not to say. Most important of all was, they were not to confirm nor deny whether the press conference was even about the lost princess. Keith was also to make a statement to the press before Alfor spoke that there was to be a set of rules with what sorts of questions were allowed to be asked of the former king. Something Keith was not exactly fond of. 

Shiro, on the other hand, wasn’t feeling all that concerned with rules about what to say to a bunch of reporters. He had more important questions for Coran. “Did you or Alfor manage to get in contact with Lance?” he asked eagerly, the moment that he saw his window of opportunity open up. None of them had seen, nor heard from Lance since that night, and suffice it to say that Shiro was starting to get worried. 

Lance wasn’t the kind of guy to go out and do something totally stupid, that much Shiro knew. He wasn’t irrational. But still, when he’d spoken to Alya, it was clear that despite Alfor’s acceptance, she still didn’t forgive Lance and still believed that he had lied to her. And so Lance had just… gone. Which was particularly frustrating not only because he was their friend, but because Alfor had a certain reward for finding the lost princess with Lance’s name on it. 

“Hm?” Coran asked, looking up and over at Shiro. 

“We haven’t been able to find Lance,” Shiro repeated. “We were hoping maybe you and Alfor had had some luck getting in contact with him…” 

“Oh! Yes!” Coran said, nodding. “Yes, he’s meeting with Alfor now, actually!” 

Keith jerked a little bit in his shock. “He is?” he asked, sounding as astounded by this news as Shiro felt. 

“Yes, he came at once when Alfor requested a private meeting with him about the matter of his reward.” 

Shiro’s heart fell just a little bit when Coran said that last part. Maybe it had been a lot to hope that once all this was said and done that Lance would still be in his life as much as he had been before, in the empire. But to just suddenly be cold shouldered by someone who had been his friend, and then finding out he’d only come forward when the king had offered a reward?

Maybe Alya was right… Maybe Lance was just in it for the money.

No, Shiro shook that thought off almost as quickly as it came. He knew that was the furthest thing from the truth. Lance was his friend, and he had been in it to save Shiro long before he’d been in it to save the lost princess. It was just as Shiro had predicted, unfortunately; she’d broken his heart. He just hadn’t expected Alya to break his heart after her heart had been broken first. But maybe now that it was fixed, her and Lance would work themselves out. 

After all, they always did, right? 

A few rooms down, Lance was being led by another staff member of the palace into the room where Alfor was waiting for him. “Your majesty,” Lance bowed at the waist before the king as he was let into the office space. It was just as grand and finely decorated as everything else here was. Alfor was sat at the desk, typing up notes for the big press conference he’d called. It was the talk of the town all over, not just amongst the high class circles. “You sent for me?” he asked as he straightened back up. 

Alfor was giving him a playful look as he stood up from his desk. “It’s a pleasure to meet you under better circumstances,” he said, holding a hand out to formally shake Lance’s. “Without one of us stealing the other’s car.” 

Lance blinked at the proffered hand, not sure if it was customary for kings to shake hands with commoners, let alone con men like him. He gave a confused smile, but didn’t take the hand, which Alfor noted and quickly took back. “Sorry,” Alfor said with a chuckle. “Just trying to share a joke with the man who brought my daughter back home to me.” He was surely in better spirits now than the last time Lance had talked to him, that much was clear. 

“Well, here you are,” Alfor lifted up a small envelope off of the desk and held it out for Lance. “Ten million notes, as promised. To the man who rescued and brought the princess back to me. Along with my everlasting gratitude.” 

Lance hesitated a smile before it quickly disappeared again. He adjusted on his feet, feeling a bit awkward. “I appreciate your gratitude, your majesty,” he said. “Alya rescued herself. I just helped her get here…” 

“Well then,” Alfor stepped towards him, still holding the envelope out to him. It warmed his heart in a way to see that Lance thought as highly of his daughter as he did. “Ten million notes to the man who  _ helped _ her, then.” 

Lance stepped back, keeping his hands clasped neatly behind his back. He wouldn’t make eye contact with the king, either. “I’m sorry, your majesty,” he said with a sigh. “I don’t want your money. I’m grateful for the offer, but… I can’t accept the money. I just… wanted to come here and tell you that, myself.” 

Alfor was taken aback by the refusal, and slowly lowered the offering. All that time he’d spent, worrying himself over being conned by people for the reward, and now he was standing before someone who genuinely would not take it. He turned to set it back down on the table. Lance was clearly nervous to be in his presence again after everything. With the bravado gone, he seemed so scared to be standing here. “What do you want, then?” Alfor asked. 

He blinked, clearly not expecting that question from the king. In fact, Lance hadn’t been expecting to have a real conversation about this, but here he was. Now that Alya had everything she wanted, there was really only one thing left that Lance wanted… the only thing Lance wanted. “Nothing you can give me, unfortunately,” he replied, politely. He bowed again, preparing himself to leave before Alfor could ask any further questions of him. Or worse, try to offer him the reward again. 

“Young man,” Alfor’s voice came after him before he could retreat. He stopped in his tracks, just merely one foot away from the door. With the bravado and the pent up frustration gone, he was definitely scared to be standing there, Alfor decided. It made him look just like a young, scared servant that Alfor remembered very well. “You were that boy, weren’t you? The nervous one Chef Garrett took in… The one who accidentally dropped the fruit tray at Altea’s last ball.” 

Lance just barely turned his head back towards Alfor, but still couldn’t bring himself to look him in the eyes. “Yes.” 

“I hear you saved Count Shirogane’s life in the siege of the castle,” Alfor continued. “You protected the royal family in a way even I couldn’t… A way I didn’t even expect I’d  _ have _ to. You kept Shiro hidden in the Empire for years, supporting the two of you with just simple street theft. Working your whole life to get him to safety, out of nothing but your own kind heart… And now, on top of that, you helped bring my daughter home to me.” He crossed over to the young boy, who somehow had become a man in the years since Alfor had last saw him. A man that Alfor was proud to say had served the palace, and become companions with his remaining daughter. He put a hand on Lance’s shoulder, rounding in front of him so that Lance was forced to finally look him in the eye. “Yet you don’t want any reward for all that?” 

Lance felt himself clenching and unclenching his jaw a bit, not sure what to say to all that high praise. And from someone who had been his king, no less… “Maybe I did once,” Lance replied. “But not anymore. She’s Allura… That’s reward enough for me.” 

“Why the change of mind?” Alfor asked. 

Lance considered that question for a second or two. Logically, he could just take the reward money and walk away. And there was still very much a part of him that wanted to do that. But still… “I guess it was more like a change of heart,” he answered, simply. Before he could ponder on his own meaning for too long, he stepped out from under Alfor’s hand and bowed again. “I have to go.” 

He quickly scooted through the door before Alfor could protest again, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders once he was out of that office. Fortunately, the king let him go without further hassle. The security man at Alfor’s door stepped forward to direct him out of the palace again, but Lance cordially waved him off. He remembered the way. 

However, he only made it down one flight of stairs before he was face to face with the one person he’d been hoping he wouldn’t see here. Ironically, she was also the person he longed to see the most right now, at the same time… 

“Lance,” Alya said, standing in apparent shock that he was there. 

“Alya,” he couldn’t help the soft smile that spread across his face when he greeted her. She was in a regal ball gown like none he’d ever seen before, dripping from head to toe in dazzling, sparkling gems. And across her forehead, looking like it had always belonged there, was a thin golden diadem with a clear jewel in the center. But all of that was nothing compared to how stunning she looked with the curls of her hair all fashioned down one shoulder. He wished maybe she might be happy to see him right now, and smile at him, instead of standing there looking so surprised. 

But of course, it didn’t really matter how much he  _ wanted _ her to be happy to see him. He had used her for her father’s money, and no amount of stories about how stupidly obsessed with her he’d been as a kid was going to make up for that. In fact, when he put it that way, it probably would just make it worse! Alya must have finally realized that they were standing in silence, because she finally spoke again. “Did you get your reward money?” she asked.

A small pit dropped into his stomach again. Of course. That was all Lance ever cared about, after all. “My business here is done,” he said simply. It was the least he could do let her know that he’d be out of her hair soon. 

“Young man,” the security guard next to Alya suddenly spoke up, making both of them jump. Lance hadn’t even realized that she had security with her. Of course she did… She was the princess, after all! “You will bow, and address her as--”

“No, stop,” Alya shook her head, waving a hand at the security guard to quiet him. “That won’t be necessary. This is--” 

“Please,” Lance said, holding a hand of his own up to stop her, now. He bent at the waist, lowering himself before her. “Your highness.” When he straightened up again, she was giving him a peculiar look like she had that night when he’d bowed to her in their hotel room. It was something she clearly was going to have to get used to if that was her reaction whenever anyone bowed down to her. “I’m glad you found everything you were looking for,” he said, earnestly. 

Alya blinked a few times before she replied, still giving him that strange look. But she snapped out of it and nodded her head. “Yes, I’m glad you did, too,” she said. The reward. Always the reward. 

Lance pressed his lips together into something that was  _ almost  _ a courteous smile. “Well, I guess this is goodbye,” he said. He bowed again, a bit quicker this time. “Your highness.” With that, he made his way down the next flight of steps.

“Goodbye…” Alya said softly, watching as he went. It was hitting her a little bit as she watched his retreating back… this could really be the last time she would see him. After this afternoon, if Coran and Alfor were to be believed, her entire life was going to change. How would she ever actually see him again? 

Fortunately, she remembered quickly just how much money he had just made. He was fabulously wealthy now, anyways, so… Surely she’d see him around Oriande, anyways. She turned to her security guard again, nodding and letting him lead her up to the office where her father awaited. 

Lance continued towards the exit, and it didn’t take long for him to stumble on Coran, going through some preparations with Keith and Shiro. He grinned, feeling relieved to see Shiro looking as happy and  _ normal _ as ever. “Well,” he said, approaching his old friend. “If you’re ever in the vicinity of Olkarion, look me up.” 

“Olkarion?” Shiro asked, confusedly. That was so far from here, it was practically back by the empire’s borders! He reached out to pull Lance into a hug, anyways, glad to finally see him again after these past couple of days. 

“I hear there’s good farms there,” Lance shrugged, unsurely. He squeezed Shiro again, heaving a sigh before letting ago. With one hand, he patted him on the shoulder. “So long, old friend.” 

“Lance, you’re making a big mistake,” Shiro replied. “You can’t go live in Olkarion! What will you even do there? It’s all farmland, it’s not exactly your kind of… home…” 

Lance laughed as Shiro tapered off, realizing what he’d said. “Farm’s no place for a big city street thief?” he asked with a laugh. He didn’t mind the implication. It was true! “No, this is the one thing I’m doing right…” 

“What’s going on?” Keith asked, finally free to join them as Coran was quickly ushered a few feet away by a member of the security team. 

“Lance says he’s leaving for Olkarion,” Shiro filled him in, letting his displeasure with Lance’s choice be apparent through his voice. 

“What?” Keith asked, taken aback. Which, of course ‘taken aback’ with Keith meant that he practically shouted it. And Lance thought he’d had an issue with volume control… “You can’t go! What about Alya?” 

Lance stifled a chuckle. “She has what she’s always wanted,” he replied. “I can’t take that from her.” 

“So instead you have to leave?” Keith asked, still sounding dumbfounded. There was no logical connection between the two points in his mind. Lance had jumped from Point A to Point 36 and it just wasn’t computing. 

“Excuse me, I’m sorry to interrupt,” Coran quickly grabbed Keith by the shoulder, his face gone a shade paler than it normally was. “No one’s leaving the building currently. We’ve had a breech that our security team are currently looking into.” 

“A breech?” Shiro asked, sounding concerned. They had never found that Galra soldier Lance had claimed he’d seen that night. Something which Lance had seemed to realize, as well, at the same time Shiro and Keith had.

“Probably nothing to be too worried about,” Coran reassured him, despite looking like he didn’t believe a word he was saying, himself. “It’s entirely possible that it was just a reporter who got a little overzealous with trying to get the first scoop!” 

“It’s Lotor,” Lance stated, not even bothering to entertain the possibility that Coran was proposing. He felt like a damn fool. How could he be so dumb as to think Alya being with her father suddenly meant she was safe from a Galran general who’d been sent here with the express purpose to kill her? And a press conference announcing her to the world as Allura was exactly the kind of thing the empire would want to stop. 

“We need to find Allura, where is she?” Keith asked, already pulling his suit jacket off, and handing it over to the nearest staff member. 

Lance quickly did the same, heading towards the stairs before Keith could ask again. “She was headed up to meet with the king!” he said, feeling his forehead break out into a sweat at that realization. If Lotor found Alya, he wasn’t just finding the lost princess of Altea… he would find it’s former, and still living King.

* * *

When Alya finally got upstairs, Alfor already had a photographer ready and waiting for them in a dazzling room with a view of the front courtyard. They were to provide a more formal portrait of the king and his lost daughter for the papers to run, which was why she had to wear this absurdly ornate gown. And her father was just finishing pinning the medals to his lapel as she entered. She bowed, and he laughed at her. 

“You don’t need to bow to me anymore,” he said through his smile. “My dear Allura.” He crossed over to her, cupping his hands around her face to take her in. “You bow to no one.” 

She chuckled, not sure what to say to that. It felt strange to go from being a street sweeper in rags to suddenly having a king tell you something like that. All while wearing a gown that cost more than the richest men probably saw in a lifetime. So, instead, she crossed over to the throne Alfor had had brought up for their portraits, and ran a hand over the ornate carvings. “This is beautiful, father,” she said with a smile. 

Next, she crossed over to take in the view of the courtyard. There were so many reporters already waiting outside the gates. It was intimidating to see them all and think that they were waiting for her, too. Maybe they weren’t all reporters! Maybe some of them were just normal people who lived in Oriande, hoping to catch a glimpse of the commotion. She wondered, briefly, how Lance had gotten out of here and through that crowd. But he was always good in a crowded city, she thought…

“He’s not there,” Alfor sighed, walking over to his daughter and resting a gentle hand on her back. 

“Oh, I know he’s not there, he’s so  _ fast _ , and he just dodges between people so quick, I--” she caught herself, and stared up at Alfor for a moment or two. “Who’s not there?” she asked, not sure if they were talking about the same person. 

Her father laughed at that. A low, kind laugh that made her smile. He shook his head, turning her away from the window. “Your young man,” he replied. 

“He’s not my young man,” Alya scoffed, shaking her head. 

“What do you mean?” Alfor asked with another gentle laugh. After a moment or two, he started to look confused, instead. Like he hadn’t imagined that Allura could possibly not be on the same page as him when in regards to Lance. “I’m sorry, did you not know he  _ loves _ you?” 

“I said he’s not my young man, father,” Alya insisted again, feeling a bit scandalized at his suggestion. How could he possibly expect Alya to believe getting used by people for money was any sort of love? She knew that fortune changed people, but that was a level she refused to believe her father was on. 

“Well,” Alfor said, softly. He was stunned by her response to what he was saying. It had seemed to him like the reason Lance had helped her was that they loved each other. But perhaps it was just another kind deed to the crown he’d once served, after all. Alfor found that  _ incredibly _ hard to believe, though. “When he refused the reward, I thought for sure my Allura’s found herself a prince of her own kind.” 

“What?” Alya asked, pressing her eyebrows together in confusion. 

“One of character,” Alfor continued with a soft smile, gently holding her face again. “Not one of wealth... or birth...” 

No, that wasn't an answer to her question at all. “Lance didn’t take the reward?” she asked again in a stunned voice. A look of realization washed over his face and he chuckled at her, letting go of her face so that he could gently take her hands into his. 

“My dear Allura…” he said, softly. “You  _ are _ our dear Allura. He told me that was reward enough for him. I tried to give him the money, but he refused it.” 

Alya blinked, not sure what to say to her father. Why had Lance gone ahead and let her believe that he had taken it, then? And if he hadn’t taken it, then what did that mean for him? Where would he go now? “My dear,” Alfor interrupted her thoughts before she could get too carried away. “Look at us! Look at where we’re standing now. You were born into this world of jewels and opulence. But I wonder if that’s where you truly belong?” 

“Yes,” Alya replied, tightening her grip on Alfor’s hands as if scared he might let go. “Of course it is! Of course! I found everything I was looking for. I found out who I am… and I found you…” 

A smile spread over Alfor’s face and he gently lifted one of her hands to place a gentle kiss on the backs of her fingers. “Yes, you did,” he replied, still smiling at her. “And you’ll always have me. You’ve made this the happiest day of my life, Allura. And I'm sure the ones to come will be even happier. But I am you father, and I want you to make sure they’re just as happy for you, as well, Alya…” 

She blinked, tilting her head a bit. He hadn't called her Alya since they’d met. Not once, not even before they’d come to realize that she was actually Allura. He’d just called her ‘young lady’ that night. “Recognize yourself,” Alya repeated softly. 

Alfor smiled and kissed her hand once more. “My dear, whether you decide to take the title or not, you are my daughter,” he reassured her. “Whatever you decide… we’ll always have each other.” 

He let go of her hands, and she turned to look out the window again. Like maybe if she looked a little hard, she might see Lance before he disappeared forever. And then what? She couldn’t shout to him from here, he’d never hear her… And besides, she didn’t know how or if these fancy windows opened, anyways. 

Alfor patted her shoulder and pressed one last kiss on her head. “I’m going to go speak with the photographer. I’ll be back soon,” he told her. She nodded, and a moment later she could hear him leave the room, gently closing the door behind him and leaving her alone with her possible choices. The press conference was in just a few short couple of hours... Any decision had to be made quickly. 

She should be glad that she was there in this sort of palace with her father, right? All she ever wanted was her family, and she found it… And on top of that, she  _ was  _ a princess. Something most girls only ever dreamed of. Not that the fame or fortune of that really mattered to her… But she could make a difference, right? 

It wasn’t quite that simple, though, was it? She was a princess with no kingdom… Her homeland was taken from her. But suddenly that city didn’t really feel like home to her, now that she thought about it. The buildings, those streets. None of it felt like what she had spent her entire life imagining 'home' would feel like. And neither did this palace... Home felt like it was with her friends… and her family. They were what gave her that warm feeling in her chest, not the cities. But it wasn’t right if Lance wasn’t there, too. Lance was part of that home... 

When had Lance become part of her home? She didn’t know when exactly he’d started to matter so much to her, but now she saw clearly just how much he did. Sure, he’d lied to her when they’d first met, but she’d lied to him, too. It was the nature of where they’d been living. The very nature of that city. Instinct. Conman and princess… They both had their dreams come true, and he’d turned it down? 

Alya had everything she wished for, but suddenly it felt empty without him. With everything to win, she somehow still had lost. Unless, of course, she went after him… 

The door to the room opened again with a soft squeaking noise, and she heard it shut behind her with a click. She needed more information on what it would mean if she chose to go after Lance. This was all too much information, and yet she needed more answers. Answers only Alfor could give her. “Father, can’t you tell me--” 

She stopped dead in her tracks as a cold chill shot down her spine. Standing before her wasn’t her father, but another white-haired man that she knew very well. He was dressed in a shabby, militant suit. The kind of suit she hadn’t seen since leaving the Galra Empire. 

And this man had a gun pointed at her. 

It was like her nightmare had come to life.

Her heart was pounding as she managed to gasp out the name. 

“Lotor..." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (John Mulaney voice) THE OTHER SHOE JUST DROPPED!! 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and are keeping safe! I'm hoping that this whole isolation situation means I can get the rest of the fic up for you now! 
> 
> Ahhh I'm so happy that we made it to this point. Thank you all so much!! <3


	14. Desperation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alya finally comes face to face with Lotor, who has been sent by the Galra with express orders to execute the Princess Allura.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey, look! I finally updated! 
> 
> I know last time I said that this one wouldn't take this long because I already had it written, but I have a small secret... I actually really hated what I had written at that time. So this took a lot of massive rewrites before I was finally happy with it. And that's why it's taken so long for this chapter to go up! 
> 
> But WE DID IT Y'ALL! And I'm so happy with this chapter now! So I hope you enjoy it, too, because a lot of love went into making sure it was good. I won't have an end note after this chapter because I don't like how it feels having an end note after this one, so I'm gonna drop the info here: I will still have a small epilogue coming to fill in the empty gaps of the ending, so be on the look out for that!
> 
> CW: Intense conflict, physical violence, gun use

“Alya,” Lotor breathed, his voice sounding shaky. His face was pale, and his eyes were wide with shock. He looked almost as stunned as Alya felt; as if somehow, despite having come to this place looking for her, he still hadn’t been expecting to actually find her. Which was pretty funny, really, considering that Alya hadn’t been expecting to see Lotor here at all! In fact, five minutes prior to now, she’d thought he was half a world away. All of her nightmares had been just that; wild illusions conjured up by her own overly-cautious mind. 

But as she looked onto his stunned face, she quickly realized that she was finding much more lurking beneath the surface. His eyes were wild and almost manic. And in his hand, at his side…

She tried not to look down at the gun he held, her stomach leaping everytime she came close. As if looking at it might make them both remember that it was there. “W-what are you doing here?” she asked, her voice not sounding nearly as confident as she’d wanted it to. 

Lotor’s eyes trailed about the room as he answered her, like he was still looking for any exit or people he might have missed in the room. Any exits or witnesses, she thought with a lurch in her stomach. “There was this… girl,” he replied, his voice every bit as uncertain as hers. “A good, Galra girl whose word I trusted… She told me that her dangerous games were nothing more than innocent fantasy. To my consternation, I believed her... “ He hesitated. “I trusted her, and let her go. Why did I trust her?” He was asking himself, Alya implicitly seemed to realize that fact. Lotor looked away from wherever his untamed eyes had wandered, and back to her face. “I trusted her! And then she jumped off of a moving train for that ‘innocent fantasy.’ Risked her life time and time again for that ‘fantasy.’ And now I find her here, in Oriande, wearing a gown and tiara and jewels… And about to be professed to the entire world that she’s royalty.” 

“What do you want with me?” Alya asked, a bit more sternly, if still sounding a little bit unsure. She hadn’t asked him for a recap of the events she already knew. After all, she’d been there, what did she need to hear all of this for? 

Lotor’s confused, lost eyes hardened as she spoke out to him with such absolution. “Oriande is no place for a loyal Galran,” he replied simply. 

“Well, then it’s a good thing I’m not Galran,” Alya answered him firmly. “I’m an Altean.” 

“I’ve come to take you home,” he said, ignoring her bold claims against him. 

A fire had ignited in her chest at his insistence. Like he was scolding her for some sort of ridiculous illegal activities back in an Empire that_ his _ people had stolen. And everything would have been fine if he hadn’t followed her all the way here… How dare he act like she’d done something wrong when _ he’d _ been the one to stalk her halfway across the world? “This is my home, now,” she retorted, stubbornly. 

“Stop!” Lotor burst, making Alya’s heart leap in her chest, snapping her back into the state of fear and uncertainty she’d previously felt. She held a hand to her chest to catch herself, trying to take a step backwards. But she was stopped by the lounge seat in front of that grand window. She had to stumble to keep herself from falling backwards into it, her shaky knees and the weight of this gown threatening to pull her down. 

When he spoke again, Lotor’s voice sounded almost like he was pleading with her, imploring her to see reason. “Stop playing these games… I beg of you. Come home! If you come back with me now, I can convince them that you--” 

Alya held a hand up to cut him off from speaking any further, and squinted her eyes at him in disbelief. Was he being serious right now? She tried to grapple with these two conflicting sides of Lotor in her own head… The man who was asking her to return to the Empire with him, and the General. Clearly he had to be serious if he came all this way… and with a weapon, no less. A thinly veiled threat from his beloved Empire. She cast a pointed look down at the gun he held onto so tightly. “We both know it’s not a game, Lotor,” she replied. 

His eyes were still now, and pleading with her, as if begging her to say anything else. “If you really are Allura,” he said, putting as much emphasis on the ‘if’ as he could, “do you really think that history wants you to have lived?” 

She blinked at him, not sure how to answer that. What did Alya know of anyone’s history? She barely even knew her own past, let alone a country’s, or a world’s! “I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “But I do know a few _ people _ now who want Allura to have lived.”

“And you think you’re the answer to their dreams?” Lotor scoffed, incredulously. 

“I think we might be the answer to each other’s,” she corrected. He was getting very close to mocking her, which was something she didn’t appreciate one bit. That small fire of protest lit up inside of her again, renewed by his doubt in her. “Why don’t _ you _ want Allura to have lived?! What personal stake do you even have in the wars of your father?!”

That had gotten to him, and Alya was close to regretting asking, but she was still too alight with her own spark of rebellion to back down now. Lotor’s cheeks flushed red and his face contorted in anger. “The Galrans saved the people of their empire, and provide for them to this day! They live in peace because of my father, and men like him!” 

“Are you sure about that?” Alya pressed with a scoff to mimic his own. She was angry now. The Galra provided nothing to their people but poverty and despair--she knew all about that well enough. 

“Any threat to that peace must be destroyed!” Lotor continued over her, refusing to stop and listen. “The Galran soldiers destroyed the royal family to keep that peace--” 

“All but one,” Alya snapped, refusing to let him finish that sentence. Whether or not she was the princess, the King was still very much alive and nothing Lotor said or did could change that. “The Galra _ failed _! Alfor still lives… As do I.” She held her arms out wide, defiant and unafraid of what now looked to be a scared boy in front of her. “Finish it, then. I am my father’s daughter.” 

His face contorted in rage, and he lifted the gun at his side so that it was pointed right at her, closing the few short steps between them. But Alya wasn’t backing down. “And I am my father’s son!” he snapped back at her. For a moment, something akin to sadness broke through the anger on his face. “I tried to bargain with you! If you’d just come _ with me _ , I could have… _ We _would have…” 

His voice trailed off as he found that he couldn’t continue to voice that thought, his own dream, out loud. A moment passed in that sad silence, before his face hardened again. “I’ll finish his war myself, if I have to!” 

It was an empty promise; even if Lotor succeeded in killing Alya here, he’d never manage to get to Alfor… The Altean royal family would still live and die with him. And besides that, she doubted the general’s orders were for anyone but her. “Do it, then,” she ordered. The moment he shot her, there were guards who would hear the gunshot, and would rush in on him. She didn’t want to die, but if that’s what she had to do to save Alfor, so be it. He had been kind to her, in the end, and more honest than her friends had been. “You told me yourself that your mother died from the shame of what your father did that night! How would she feel, knowing her son had followed in his footsteps?” 

Lotor blinked at her, a bit stunned at the way she still spoke so defiantly to him, even as he had a gun pointed at her. Had he been expecting her to be the same, meek and scared girl she had been when she was under the Galra’s thumb? They weren’t in the Empire any more. And here, in Oriande, he was the anomaly. He was the one who didn’t belong. “My father did his duty for the good of the Galra Empire!” he retorted, his voice seething with her. 

“You keep on saying that, Lotor,” Alya replied. It didn’t escape her that despite all of his rage and talk, he hadn’t shot her yet. If he was really the monster he claimed to be, then he would have just done the deed and walked away. But instead he was still standing here, arguing with her…

As if he was begging her to give him a reason _ not _ to shoot her. 

She just needed to find the right reason. “What about what’s good for you?” she asked, determinedly. 

“What’s good for the Galra Empire is what’s good enough for me!” he replied, scoffing at the question. 

“Good _ enough _?” she questioned his wording, which seemed to silence him again. She took his momentary silence as her foot in the door. Her way to wedge in past the General… Past the General who wanted the threat to his homeland dead, and back to Lotor. “You told me yourself,” Alya continued on, her voice careful and yet not taking no for an answer from him. As long as he was still talking to her instead of pulling the trigger, it meant she still stood a chance. “You weren’t sure if you could do what your father had done. Killing those children. That’s what the Galra Empire is asking you to do now, Lotor! Look at their faces in mine--we have the same faces. You heard their screams! Imagine their terror--their blood!” 

“My father followed his orders, and I must do mine!” he argued, shaking his head. But for a moment, Alya could swear she saw him squeeze his eyes shut and falter once more. She’d hit the weak spot in his story--she’d found the crack in his wall. 

“Do it, then!” she yelled, deciding in an instant that she knew he wouldn’t. At least not yet. “Do it and I’ll be with my mother and sisters on the steps of that palace with your father aiming their weapons at us all over again!” 

“A Galra has to make painful choices, Alya!” Lotor snapped at her, saying her name for the first time since he’d pulled the gun on her. She hadn’t thought that would feel so meaningful in the moment, but it did. And especially with the weakened sound the tone of his voice had taken when he’d said it. Her heart would have twisted for him in that moment, if she weren’t so pinhair focussed on her own survival in that moment. “We do what’s necessary! What choice do I have but to do my duty to the Empire?” 

There was a noise coming from behind him. Suddenly, the door was rattling like someone on the other side was trying to force it open. But it wouldn’t budge. Lotor had turned a decorative candlestick upside down and wedged them in to pin the handles from turning, effectively locking them in, They both turned their heads to look at it, and Lotor’s face visibly paled again. From this angle, Alya could see the sheen of sweat that had formed on his brow. There was a timer now--he only had until whoever this was managed to get that door open to kill her. And Alya had until then to stop him from doing it. He panicked, stepping closer to her, the gun still aimed at her chest. “For the Empire,” he said, turning to look back at her. 

She could practically feel the cold metal of the gun, and the heat of his breath on her now. But she didn’t flinch back or shy away. Even if she wanted to pull away from him or run, there was nowhere for her to go. She stared up at him, not even daring to blink, trying to think of _ anything _ to say next. But he continued before she did. “The past _ has _ to die, Alya,” his voice croaked with uncertainty again as he nearly begged her to see reason. His reason. But he still hadn’t taken any action. “The world is changing for the better! Winter will end soon and they want me back in the empire with you or with news that Allura is dead!” 

“I’m never going back there,” she stated, feeling determined about that one fact, at the very least. The rattling at the door had turned into the muffled sounds of men yelling behind it. Some of them she thought she recognized… 

“Then I have no choice!” Lotor hissed.

“You always have a choice,” she argued.

He stared at her, locking his jaw as he shook his head. “For the last time,” he said, his voice barely above a growl. “Who are you?!” 

She set her own jaw and stood tall, with her shoulders squared back just the way Shiro had taught her and spoke with the spirit Lance had awoken in her as she answered him. Recognize yourself first… That’s what Alfor had told her. “I am,” she said, her voice radiating, “the Princess Allura Melenor of Altea, first of her name and heir to the throne.” 

There was a clicking sound as Lotor cocked the gun, the barrel loading. “Be careful of dangerous dreams, Allura,” he said, his voice louder than she’d heard before. He was practically shouting it at her.. Suddenly, he was aiming higher, pressing the barrel to her forehead. Pressing her back. Her knees finally gave way beneath the angle she was held at and the weight of the dress, and she collapsed back onto the lounger. Still, she didn’t dare to look away from her would-be killer--didn’t dare back down. “For the Galra, it’s _ that _easy to--”

He locked eyes with her and froze. 

For a moment that felt like an eternity, Alya stared up at him, once again not daring to blink. Not daring to even move… she wasn’t even sure if she was breathing. The silence was like a great pressure on them. 

Then, Lotor unlocked the gun, lowering it and taking a series of fast, ragged breaths, trying to steady himself. He staggered a step backward, rubbing at one eye with the back of his hand. Alya didn’t say anything, just watched as he cocked the gun, pointing it at her again. She just sat up straight and met him there as he aimed for her chest, the cold of the gun pressing against her skin. 

And then he moved it back up to her head. 

His hand was trembling. 

“I mean you no harm, Lotor…” she said, softly, having finally found her voice again. 

She could practically feel the shaking of his hand through the metal that was pressed into her skin. But then, in a moment, it was gone again. The gun dropped to the floor as Lotor fell to his knees in front of her, his breath coming in sudden, wet bursts. He leaned forward, using one hand to support himself, to keep himself upright, the other covering his face. “I-I can’t…” His voice was a ragged, cracking sound that Alya almost hadn’t recognized. 

There was a pounding coming from the door in response to the silence that followed. And a familiar voice calling her name… One she had only an hour earlier determined she would never hear again. “Alya! Alya, are you okay?!” 

She binked, her eyes filling with tears at the realization that she was still breathing and okay. She almost felt like collapsing, herself. Instead, she leapt from the lounge and grabbed the gun off the floor, quickly fumbling to open the barrel and unload the bullets, letting them fall to the ground haphazardly. No one was hurting anyone today. Galra, Alteans, it didn’t matter. She held the now-empty gun back out for Lotor, not sure what else to do with it. 

He slowly looked back up at her, the redness now gone from his face, though she could see now that his eyes were wet with tears. A moment went by as they looked at each other, and he slowly reached up. But he reached above the proffered olive branch, holding the place where her hand became her wrist, instead. “I believe you…” he breathed. There was a long pause where Alya didn’t dare to say anything. “I believe you are really Allura…” 

She licked her lips, her throat feeling like it had gone bone dry. “W-what…” she hesitated, not sure what to say. When he didn’t answer her, she was struck by what it might have meant if Lotor believed her… “What will you tell them?” she asked. 

He slowly stood, taking the gun from her and stashing it away. There was a long time before he spoke again, and he just continued to watch Alya, as if she might disappear if he looked away. “I’ll just tell them I’m not my father, I suppose,” he replied finally. There was a relief to his voice as he said it. One that felt very final and made her feel his relief too. “But… they may send others… Galra soldiers who aren’t me.” 

She swallowed, nodding at him and understanding his meaning. This wasn’t over yet. If she took the title, and Lotor went home empty-handed, they would just send someone else to finish his job. Someone who wouldn’t hesitate. 

And if she took the title and Lotor went back to the empire empty-handed… what would become of him?

The door burst open a second later, the candlestick breaking into pieces as it did. Several men rushed in. Guards, mostly, but Keith and Shiro were with them. And Lance wasn’t far behind. The guards had their own guns pulled, and trained on Lotor, and they were yelling commands at him. 

Before they could get too close, Alya stepped around Lotor, putting herself between him and the line of fire. “Stop! He didn’t hurt me!” she commanded. The guards froze, not daring to advance on the newly found princess. 

“Your highness, he came all this way to kill you,” Keith immediately protested. He had cloth wrapped around his hand, and there was a bit of red soaking through. It became clear pretty quickly who’d finally managed to get the door open. 

“And he chose not to,” Alya replied quickly. “He’s leaving… right?” She turned back to look up at him, trying to show that everything was okay. But it was also a question. Would he leave? Surely he couldn’t go back home empty handed. 

Lotor looked at her, eyes searching for an answer, not sure what to say or do for a moment. But finally he just nodded his head and agreed with her. He had a long trip back to the empire to figure out what he would say to them. “I’m sorry,” he murmured to her in a low, soft voice. He held an open hand out for her--his turn to offer an olive branch. 

She reached out to take his hand, smiling a little bit. It didn’t mean that she forgave him for causing her so much fear, for threatening her life. But… it meant that they were okay, now. Or maybe it meant that she promised they might one day achieve ‘okay.’ And above all else, she was glad that he wasn’t the terrible person that she’d feared. 

The guards looked at each other, not sure what else to do. They deferred over to Keith and Shiro, waiting to see if either of them gave different orders than Alya did. But Keith said nothing and Shiro was looking too relieved to see the princess alive to say anything. “Let him go,” Alya commanded again, and the guards slowly began to lower their own weapons. It felt strange, giving orders like a princess should, and having people listen to them. She pointed to one guard who she’d spoken to earlier. “Will you please show him the way out?” When the guard reluctantly agreed, she finally turned back to Lotor. “This is goodbye, then.” 

He nodded his head, letting go of her hand and stuffing his into his pockets. “Goodbye, Alya,” he replied, solemnly. “May you have a good life… a long one.” He sounded earnest when he said it, and she felt almost sorry for a moment that this was how their story ended. 

Alya swallowed the lump that formed in her throat and nodded, moving to let him pass by. He spared her life, so she spared his… it was even. Once he had gone by, it wasn’t long before the guard was ushering him out and leading him through the now-broken doorway, eager to get the threat to their newfound princess as far away as possible. 

The second he was gone, Shiro let out a huge breath of relief and he moved forward to scoop Alya up into his arms. She let herself be held, all of her energy suddenly feeling zapped from her body. “Thank god you’re okay,” he breathed. 

Keith was there, too, but Alya wasn’t sure whether he was really in the hug, or if he was just keeping a protective hand on her back. It was all just so much, and she had other, more pressing matters to tell them. “They won’t stop,” her voice cracked. “Lotor spared me. He’s a good man… but the next Galra soldier they send after Princess Allura won’t…” 

“What?” Shiro asked, letting go so that he could look at her face. 

She heaved a sigh, rubbing at her face. She was too anxious now to explain very well. “I can’t take the title… I can’t tell the whole world that I’m Allura. there’s too much at risk, too many Galra eyes watching… We need to cancel this whole thing.” 

Shiro looked confused, but nodded, and waved some of the guards out of the room. There was too much going on, and it would be inappropriate to expect Alya to meet the press for the first time after she’d just had a gun pointed in her face, anyways. 

Alya looked around for the first time since Lotor had left as the guards filtered out. Shiro and Keith were here… and she could see Coran just a few feet away, talking to the guards as they passed by. But someone was missing. “Where’s Lance?” she asked. She’d been so sure that she’d seen him enter the room just minutes ago. And his voice… He’d called out for her from behind that door, hadn’t he? 

“He just left,” Keith replied. “Once he saw you were safe.” He was rubbing her back in small, gentle circles. Everyone was pretty shaken up, clearly. But Alya was determinedly pulling away from Shiro when she heard that Lance had left. 

“I need to talk to him,” she said, lifting up the skirt of her gown to pull her heels off and handing them off to Shiro.

He looked mildly alarmed as the shoes were thrust into his hands. “You better hurry up, then,” Keith answered, seemingly unphased by this turn of events. “He was going on earlier about how he was going to leave for Olkarion.” 

“I’m not sure it’s so safe for the princess to run off on her own after what just happened,” Shiro said, his voice cautious. He wanted her and Lance to be okay again, even just to communicate again. Maybe if they did, then Lance wouldn’t feel like he’d have to leave. But they hadn’t even let enough time pass for Lotor to have left the building, and that made him nervous. 

Alya huffed, rolling her eyes at Shiro. “Then send a guard with me,” she answered flatly, although that was really the last thing that she wanted. One thing she had discovered about being a princess so far was that she wasn’t a huge fan of how it felt like she had to be followed around this entire day. Then again, look what had happened the second she wasn’t accompanied, she supposed. “Lotor’s gone, and he’s not going to come back and harm me. I know it.” 

Shiro was still giving her an unsure look, but before he could protest her running off on her own, she had already handed off her other shoe, and was pushing her way out the door. “Alya!” She could hear Shiro calling after her, but she didn’t stop. She was already on her way down the stairs. 

Lance had been meeting with Alfor earlier, so Alya quickly figured that he most likely had been brought in the back entrance that she also had been earlier that morning, so as to avoid the vulturous eyes of any of the photographers or news reporters outside. Which meant he would probably leave that way, too. Fortunately, none of the guards were stopping her as she rushed her way down the few flights of stairs and towards the back of the building. She didn’t have much time to catch up with him.

He wasn’t anywhere to be found in the hallways leading her to the back entrance, and for a few short moments she was worried that she might have been too late. But when she got to the backdoor, she could see him just outside in the courtyard, his back turned as he continued to drift further away. Without even a glance to make sure no one was watching, Alya pushed through the door and called after him. “Lance, wait!” she called, running barefoot out onto the cobblestone and dirt pathway that led away from the great palace.

Lance froze upon hearing her voice, and slowly turned to look at her. His eyes were widened just slightly, as if he almost didn’t believe his ears. As if he didn’t know how to believe that she’d followed after him at all. “Your highness,” he quickly turned to lower himself into a courteous bow before her. 

Alya let out an annoyed huff of air for the second time in the last ten minutes and crossed her arms expectantly over her chest as he straightened up. “And just where do you think you’re going?” she asked. 

He blinked, looking all the more confused by her question. “I’m leaving, princess,” he replied, solemnly. “You’re home now, that’s what matters. Could you do me a favor, though? If you ever see me from your carriage window again, don’t wave, don’t smile, don’t…” He took a deep breath, shaking his head a little bit. “I don’t want to be in love with someone I can’t have.” 

Well, that was just more nonsense. Alya shook her own head and marched herself over to him, reaching out to grab him by the shoulders. “Lance, you’re so dramatic sometimes,” she stated, shaking his shoulders a little bit in her growing frustration. 

“Ow!” he hissed, grabbing at his side. Alya gasped, quickly letting go of his shoulders and making a face. She opened her mouth to apologize, but before she could say a word, Lance held a hand up to stop her, his face still contorted a bit from the pain. “I know, I know, men are babies…” 

Alya rolled her eyes at him. “Yes, _ you _ are a baby,” she replied, her voice soft as she said it. Men weren’t just babies; they were so dense that she couldn’t stand it. She glanced down and took his hand in hers as the air between them changed from one of uncertainty to something a little bit more intimate. “You know, when I was a little girl, I always dreamed that I’d find a handsome prince and we’d kiss for the first time in Oriande.” 

A look passed over his face, like she was the one who was being ridiculous now. Or maybe that he still just didn’t believe her. “I’m no prince, Alya.” 

She scoffed, sliding her hands up to grab at either side of his lapel and pull him closer. Gently, this time. “Well, the Princess Allura Melenor of Altea would care to disagree, Lance,” she stated as if it were just that simple. Because it really was just that simple, in the end. 

Before he could say another word, she pulled him down so that she could finally,_ finally _ bring his lips to meet hers. 

He easily let himself be tugged into the kiss by her, his arms gently wrapping around her waist. Hesitant, at first. Like perhaps he should think better of this, just in case… But, ultimately, he cast his better logic aside and gave in. He’d wanted to do this so many times since they’d met that day at the old royal theatre. Maybe even longer, if he counted his childhood crush on the princess… 

No, he decided. That didn’t count. He had fallen for Alya long before he’d known she was the princess he’d been infatuated with as a boy… 

It wasn’t a short kiss, nor was it a long one. It was just long enough to make Lance feel dizzy again, like he had when they’d danced together a few nights before. And when they slowly parted again, he couldn’t help the faint smile that her lips left behind on his. 

“You came back,” Alya murmured softly. She felt just as light-headed as Lance did, and it was hard to make sentences out of the incoherent rush of thoughts going through her head. “When Lotor had me… I heard you trying to get the door open. Your voice…” 

He opened his mouth, not sure why she seemed so surprised by that. “Of course I did,” he replied. It almost made him feel guiltier. Had he hurt her so badly that she thought he’d just let harm come to her? “I-I… I’m sor--” 

Before he could finish his apology, she had cut him off again. And what she said next wasn’t something he expected. “You didn’t take the money,” she stated. 

He met her eyes. Those blue, blue eyes that just drew him in every time. “No,” he said, his voice just above a murmur. “I didn’t. I couldn’t.” 

“Why couldn’t you?” she asked. Her eyes were hooded again as she leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together. He felt her breath on his lips again, and she gently bumped her nose against his. 

He blinked his eyes and lifted his head back so that he could look at her straight on. He didn’t want his eyes to be closed when he said this. “Because I… I love you, Alya.” 

A soft smile spread over his face as he said it, feeling light. Like a weight had been lifted off of him. Especially when she smiled back at him, too. What he wouldn’t give to see her smile like that all the time… Unable to wait any longer, he leaned in to slot their lips together again, lifting her off her feet and twirling her. If his ribs still hurt, he could hardly feel it over his own elation. 

The world seemed to fade around them as they stood together in that courtyard, locked in each other’s embrace. Here, there was no Galra Empire, and no Oriande. There was just a conman and a princess who knew that they loved each other. It was a perfect ending. 

No. Actually… It was a perfect beginning…


	15. Epilogue

“Starting today,” Alfor’s voice echoed through the press hall, still as commanding and royal as ever, “there will be no more Princess Alluras. We apologize to the press for our delay in this information, as we dealt with an internal security breach during our last conference and had no choice but to cancel that day, and we thank you for your patience. 

“The idea of Princess Allura being alive has been a beautiful dream that has kept me going these many past years, but it’s time now for me, and the rest of the world, to let go. The reward for Allura’s return will be given to charity. Currently, we are looking at several small children’s hospitals and orphanages in the countryside, and we don’t have any further information at this time.

“Let there be no more talk of Princess Allura. I’d like to impress upon the press, and everyone, about the dangers these sorts of rumors may pose for our Altean brothers and sisters still living in the Empire. May we one day all be reunited by the White Lion. Thank you.” 

“There never was any Princess Allura,” Lotor said from the head of a long, thin conference table. In front of him sat the highest ranking officials of the Galran Army. Commander Sendak looked miserable as always. “She was nothing more than a dream some of our citizens came up with to keep their own morale high. 

“The girl known as Alya has been dealt with. She crossed our borders illegally, and knows that she will never be able to return to the Galra Empire, or she will be made an example of. With the former King Alfor alive and still living in Oriande, it’s imperative that we not go crossing borders and killing those who have taken refuge there, lest we incite an international conflict. Peace in the Galra Empire remains our highest priority, and it must be maintained. 

“Our empire has no need for fairy tales such as Princess Allura, and it’s important that our people know this truth. Princess Allura is gone for good. The case is closed.” 

“How does it feel to have the whole world talking about you and only being able to read it in the papers?” Lance asked from the small wooden table they had set up over by the window. There was a small plate with half-eaten toast and jam in front of him, nearly covered by the two whole newspapers he had as well. Being on bedrest these past few weeks to mend his broken ribs was not treating him particularly well. He was nothing if not restless and in constant want for motion. 

Alya heaved an amused sigh, shaking her head as she looked over at him from the small mirror she had hanging over the sink. “I don’t read those papers, you do,” she reminded him, adjusting the earring she’d just put in. 

She crossed over to the table, taking in the cool breeze from the open window. She much preferred this small, one-bedroom house to that big, empty hotel room any day. Especially knowing that she shared it with Lance, and that it meant they were staying together for good in Oriande. With a happy sigh, she draped her arms over his shoulders, peering down at the headlines he was reading.  _ Princess Allura Dead Again?! _ …  _ Altean Princess Rumors Put To Rest  _ … 

“Where did you even get a newspaper from the Galra Empire?” she asked with a small laugh, shaking her head. He always had his ways, didn’t he?

“Let’s just say an old friend has weird ways of apologizing,” he replied, flatly. 

Alya chuckled and pressed a soft kiss into his hair before straightening up and patting his shoulder. “Hurry up and eat. We’re going to go find you something suitable to wear for tonight. It’s your first ball and I want to show you off to everyone.” 

Lance grabbed the half eaten toast and shoved it into his mouth like a child. “It’s not a ball if it’s just five other people besides us,” he reminded her without bothering to swallow first. 

“Still, Shiro and Keith are expecting us to look nice,” she replied. “And it may not be a ball, but it’s still dinner with friends, and we should still look nice. You, especially! It’s not everyday the Count you smuggled across the Galra border gets reunited with his long lost love and asks him to marry him.” 

Lance made a face when she put it that way, but stood up and grabbed his coat off the hook on the wall, anyways. As he slid the coat on, Alya grabbed hers and did the same, eager to get going. “Do you think Hunk will make those little cream puffs for the party?” he asked, changing the subject. “The ones with strawberry and fresh mint that you brought home from your dad’s last week?” 

Alya chuckled, shaking her head. “I think if you had any requests for your friend,  _ you _ should have asked him yourself a little sooner than now,” she replied. 

Lance shrugged it off. Anything his old friend made was delicious, anyways. Turns out, he had twice as much talent than his father, the esteemed royal chef, had had. It was time for them to go now, anyways. With one hand, he gestured to the door with an over-dramatic bow. “By your lead, then, your highness,” he smirked. 

She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the soft smile that spread across her face. As she passed by him, she did a small curtsy and took the hand he was using to direct her. As they walked out of the small house and onto the street, Alya took in another deep breath of the fresh Oriande air. It was starting to get colder here, the cold seeming to have followed them down finally. But the cold felt different here. Brighter, somehow, if that was a word one could use at all to describe the temperature. And far less lonely. 

Lance locked the door and looped their arms together, and the two of them started walking down the street that would take them to the high end of the city. It was nice and quiet on this side of Oriande--and just as beautiful as every other part of the city. They’d come to find that they liked the quiet. Around here, there were far fewer former Alteans to see Alya on the street and curiously stare. Or worse, try and bow to her and cause an unnecessary spectacle. Not that it was a regular occurence. Most days she was just another girl in Oriande.

It didn’t mean she’d abandoned the former royals completely. Quite the opposite, in fact. Alya had the family she always wanted, even if the world didn’t know it. She got to have lunches with her father, and hear tales of Altea from Coran. Tales that she was almost certain he was making up, sometimes. Shiro and Keith had proven to be very good for a double date, too. And somehow, they’d even managed to make some new friends at a little Altean bar and evening club that Keith had taken them all to--he knew the owners. Lance had even already had a long lost friend of his own in Oriande, when he learned that Alfor’s personal chef was the son of the man who had taken him in at the palace. 

The title of being a princess was far too much, anyways. One day of being followed around and giving people orders had felt like a lifetime of a great burden to Alya. She had everything she wanted already, the rest was superfluous. She may have been Allura once, but she had grown up so far from all of that. And she knew herself well enough now to recognize that she preferred to be Alya. And she thought maybe… just maybe her newfound family preferred her that way, too. 

One thing was for sure, though… She much preferred being Lance and Alya above anything else. A conman and a princess, and no one even knew. All she knew was that none of this made any sense without him by her side. They were complete again, and they were together.

“What are you thinking about?” Lance’s voice interrupted her reverie. She looked up at him in surprise to see the smile that danced across his face. That same coy smile that could drive her mad or make her heart stop. She stared, smiling up at him for a moment too long, and he grew concerned. “Everything all right?” 

Alya waved it off with a soft laugh at herself. “I’m fine,” she replied. “I was just thinking about home… love… family.” He hummed as she said it, nodding his head. Now he appeared to be the one lost in his own train of thought. “What about you?” 

A moment passed as Lance made a show of squinting his eyes like he was trying to solve some difficult puzzle. “I was just wondering how mad Keith would be if I stole his thunder at his own engagement dinner by proposing to the lost Princess…” 

Her jaw dropped and she let go of his arm long enough to gently shove him towards where the snow had gathered at the edge of the road. Perhaps a week or two ago she wouldn’t have been able to do so, but he was pretty well healed now. He stumbled with a laugh, catching himself just before he would have gone tumbling over into the small mound of snow. And Alya found herself laughing, too. 

Lance reached out and caught her by the elbow as she giggled, pulling her in to swiftly wrap his arms around her waist and lift her into the air, spinning the both of them. She let out a small yelp, unable to stop laughing. “You amaze me everyday, Allura,” he breathed in a low voice to her once he’d set her gently back down onto her feet. A soft smile spread over her face, and before she had enough time to think of a clever response, he’d scooped her up into a deep, magical kiss. 

_ Far away… _

_ Long ago… _

_ Glowing dim as an ember…  _

_ Things my heart used to know… _

_ Once Upon a December _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaahhh!! This is genuinely the first ever multi-chapter fic I’ve finished. I know it took me a while, but holy crap we got there! I’m so excited!! I hope you all enjoyed the ride as much as I did! Thank you so much for the people who commented on almost every chapter, you really made my day every time I got the little “someone left a comment!” email.
> 
> Hopefully I’ll have a one-shot up by the end of October. A few friends and I have been brainstorming a lil spooky mini-bang for quarantine Halloween. >:) 
> 
> Thanks again!


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